The Cosmic Word Laboratory

Sara Teasdale Spoke to Me She said nature. She said love. She said pick up the damn spoon       and stir. Your thoughts are thick on...

Before I tasted Plath and before Anne Sexton made forty look like the perfect age, there were fairies. They hid in the grasses and wov...

There was a softness in the curves of your face Nose lips chin brow Even that impish smirk Softened the blow of your insular soul. Did I...

We are linked, my sisters. Spools of simple thread bounce down the stairs of time. I see the tiny stitches made from that same rocking mot...

There is a wall next to me. It grows.  It crumbles.  Tendrils of green find their way through the gaps,  Hope's Breath blooms.  ...

So, this what it feels like.  Not every day, But in the slick-sweat stickiness of this moment Or that.  You dare to peek in the keyho...

I don't always carry my load in this community of humans. I can't. My grip falters. I fall over my laces. I lose a shoe. Someho...