The Doc Martens

The girl, who needed some kind of release, caught sight of her Doc Martens. The shoes that the two of them had picked out together. The shoes that had made her feel invincible. The shoes that had allowed her to let her inner-self roam free and unafraid, in a life riddled with fear of inner-self.

A Flash of Memory

LTM-March 2014 It’s raining. Everyone crowds beneath the awning; a humid massbodies, cigarette smoke, foggy breath. You and I stand out in the rain. Watching, declining offers to make room. Sans umbrellas Sans hats They shake their heads at […]

Writing in Pencil

Writing in pencilnot sure how longI’ll mean it Planning for regrethiding in thefine gray lines Tilting at windmillswith a stopped upmegaphone Writing in pencilChanging my mindwith each word


It was a strange place; here and there, but nowhereWe were alone, you and me, and a hundred moreA place called home, but I’ve never been thereWe laughed and conspired; […]

Hope via rage

I cannot say how much of a relief that was. I also can’t express how much rage I felt. Rage at the world. Rage at the society that tormented, taunted and jeered at people who were dying from AIDS. Rage at people hiding behind their religion standing at the edge of AIDS walks and candlelight vigils yelling at us that they all deserved to die. Rage at the nature of life and death in general. But mostly at myself.


2001 @ Bumbershoot listening to Antebellus Afrobeat Arms relax to my side– From close to chest –And swing easy-slowRhythmic to the musicShoulders breastsribs waistTwist bounce rotateCounter-beat, counter-clock…..Wise Leg one, leg […]

Sunday Wildflowers

Yellow. But not the color of daisies and crayons. More like neon green, but yellow and not neon. The colors together are pretty, but that kind of pretty you’re supposed to think is ugly. Not that colors are… ugly.