Saturday Morning

Visiting at the museum is always a good time, but watching Vivian be moved by art really was special.

Afterwards, there was knitting and reading and resting.

Kismet Scarf

Thirty year challenge

2019 vs. 1989

Done.

Because solving the problems of the world in 500 words or less while recovering from a migraine during a lunch break is what God made me for.

Back to bed.

We

Decisions, Decisions

Your life choices aren't just about what you want to do; they're about who you want to be.

Essayist, poet, and songwriter

Life is good.

At Times There Was Asia

In my high school years, Def Leppard, Chicago and Hall & Oates reigned. At times there was Asia. 

Meanwhile, I was hyper uncool.

I listened to Shriekback's Oil &Gold, Miracle Legion's Backyard, Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, The Violent Femmes Eponymous, and The Velvet Underground. When my supercool son saw this list in 2015, he proclaimed that even my punk phase was folk. He's probably right to say that I have folk in my soul.

My friends got together and introduced me to Yes, Peter Gabriel, Queen, Gary Newman, David Bowie, U2. Sometimes the Police. Men figured large, the voice of Truth and discontent. Some women were notable simply by being able to hold their own in such company: Liz Phair, Cyndi Lauper, Lori Anderson, Kate Bush, Souixee & the Banshes, Hart, Pat Benatar. Occasionally Madonna.

We had non ironic vinyl and no dates.

I Want a Goddess Who Stinks

I want a goddess who stinks.

I’m tired of these

Tired goddesses

Their shoulders white and sandals neatly tied

Their back quivers and bows 5

Their lack of men and their pristinely polished shields.

I want a goddess who ruts in the mud,

Back quivering

Who bows to no one but bends

Close to the earth 10

Who buries her face deep in the dirt and the scent of life

Who gathers life and living close to her nose, nuzzling

Who gathers life up gently and pulls it into her bosom

Who licks it and knows it in the dark.

I want a goddess who holds on 15

With hair and teeth and claw

With dirt under her nails and hair under her arms.

I want a goddess who plays and romps

With twigs in her hair

Mud on her toes, come on 20

Her thigh jiggling

Her scent thick about her

Breasts keeping time to her dance through the woods

The flesh of her butt nestled in a crevice

In a cave as she lights a candle and talks to the albino spiders there 25

Whispering their woven secrets.

I want a goddess with food in her mouth

Light in her soul

Fire in her belly

Blood on the ground 30

As she cradles the

Life she creates.

Be gone with these sterile, civilized he-women

Supports of your nicely approachable reality

Systemized and sanitized 35

Beyond recognition

Relegated to the wall

Flowers in your halls of

Destruction, despair and propriety.

I want a goddess who stinks. 40