Just Another Day In the Neighborhood

Newborn pups suckling from their mother

who is wary of the

stranger stopping to take it all in.

As well she should be

for her protection of her young

is a wonderful thing to behold –– 

A lone bloom in a garden full of yet-grown flowers ––

A couple on a street corner

holding hands and kissing.

Perhaps a little too intimate for public view.

So deliciously meretricious ––

A stop sign so layered in endless encounters

with midnight taggers

and their spray paint cans

that it has transcended its civic role

and become

art ––

A fledgling on the pavement before me

whose little life has been lost

from falling out of the nest too soon –– 

The windshield glass in the street

shattered into snow

and the splats of red upon it.

The ubiquitous yellow tape.

Remnants of a city tragedy that are merely

an inevitable part in the tapestry ––

A sky that radiates a marbled canvas

of unspeakable magnificence.

Or the rolling dark angry eyes

of a tempest creeping –– 

The tiniest thing is mine 

All mine

To love

To cherish

To covet

To reflect upon

To mourn

Perhaps a moment of silence and a bowed head

Just another day in the neighborhood

Until it is someone else’s turn

for a captivating discovery

And then to be able to let it go

To appreciate its impermanence

To move on to the next wonder

The next brush

The next audacious interception with life

in all of its astonishment.

I once opened a fortune cookie to a fortune that was meant for me:

You discover treasures where others see nothing unusual.

I DO discover treasures where others see nothing unusual 

It is my proudest trick

I also brazenly plagiarize fortune cookies


You say you want to see other women? 

As long as I’m #1,

sure go ahead. 

You say you want a threesome? 

Again, as long as you,

and she,

and God know

that I am #1,

sure go ahead. 

You say you have no qualms about treating me with neglect,

never calling, only expecting me to do the calling,

the chasing, the coveting? 

As long as you tell me how special I am

when I finally do reach you,

sure go ahead. 

I will fold my better self, my dignity, my self-esteem, clear away,

stuff it in a drawer for the acceptance of you,

for the honor to be in your sphere. 

And when I do, it will never disappoint in wringing me dry

of energy,

of glow,

of blood and life force,

and of my greatest, strongest,

loveliest womanhood. 

It also will not give me you,

but the contempt of you. 

It will swallow me up. 

And I will cease being alive,

and full,

and rich,

and powerful,

and radiant

beyond my wildest.

But as long as I’m #1….

She stared at the vast room of heads …

My New Year’s Resolution


Wish me luck!

And should I get lost in the Black Hole

someone please feed my cat.

I Am














A November Thought


i live in gratitude

i live in gratitude

i live in gratitude


every day that i awaken and breathe

i am grateful


every day that i think a thought

and feel my heart’s stirring

i am grateful


every day that i am upright and whole

i am grateful


every day that a creative idea becomes solid matter

i am grateful


every day that i face that thing of which i am most afraid

i am grateful


every day that i am given awareness of the smallest of beauties

the most unsung of treasures

i am grateful


every day that i am enlightened

given insight

have an epiphany

i am grateful


every day that i exercise compassion



i am grateful


every day that i encounter another living creature and engage

i am grateful


every day that i am hugged



i am grateful


every day that i laugh

or make someone laugh

i am grateful


every day that my family is healthy and happy

i am grateful


every day that my friends do well in the world

i am grateful


every day that i change someone’s life

or someone changes mine

i am grateful


every day that love is evident in my life

i am grateful


every day that i act out of anger



a broken heart

I am grateful


for each affliction offers an opportunity

to learn about myself and my fellow man


every day that brings me a challenge that tests my spirit

i am grateful


every day that i am humbled by a mistake

i am grateful


why else do our mistakes exist?


every day that i am faced with seemingly unbearable odds

i am grateful


for the lessons learned

and the spirit toughened and strengthened by it

are more valuable to me than if i were living an effortless life


every day that i try

I am grateful


every day that i try again

i am grateful


every day that i can have some time to myself

for quiet and reflection

i am grateful


and when they ask me what’s new?

i will answer every single day

because every single day that arrives

brings a sun

a moon

a breath

a surprise

a blessing

a song

whether sung or heard

and the ear to hear it

a world of love at our fingertips

a capacity for hope

a reason to smile

and a heart full of gratitude


so when they ask me what’s new?

i will answer everything

at every single moment

and for that

i am grateful

Lambrandic Punfunctorary Slabbageldens


missing link of yesterdays and razor blades

and lovely ways of sweet young things

on wine and cheese, the corner tease

the corner sleaze

i’ll love you,

said the stranger passing, but only for a factory day

and what are they selling this fine morning

i’ll give you half a franc or a shiny centime for that ham on rye

and that dragonfly and that big

blue sky or that glib new pie

and as the raid man cleans house for your living comfort,


he’s just a salesman like you and me

bumper stickers and t-shirts that read

“Do away with cockroaches!” or

“Soon they’ll be given the vote!”

and programming your mind to be a

faithful follower of the ACF

–– the anti-cockroach federation ––

and in this world of anti-cockroach federations and

mothership confections and

federal bureaus of insecticides and

“Just take a little off the thighs,”

and lambrandic punfunctorary slabbageldens,

i charge you to be up on your love jones thang.

and i have only this to say: 

step right up and purchase your ticket to

miss madness’ thumpin’ pumpkin!

where anything is everything, and nothing… something still.

… is silence

we’re born

we die

and in between we try

to conquer the road, the lash, the lie, the crash

we love

we seek

we float between the meek

and massive erosion of the spirit, our will to clear it

we fall

we shout

we fight against the drought

and withered earth, the rock, the crumb, the all, the some

we lose

we rise

we have so many why’s

and ask the questions to our peace, our rod, our selves, our god

we kill

we eat

for hist’ry to repeat

is what we have to give us legion with the stars, our objet d‘arts

where once was dirt

now is paved

the old road we’ve hungrily craved

is gone, is lost, is tempest-tossed, a tart burlesque, an arabesque

and then the rest…

Female Nude From the Rear View

I don’t make waves, not a punk 

I slip on the wet ground

Fall in the well

A hundred feet down

For a hundred years


I cry to be heard

Scream to be noticed

But no one hears me

No one lingers


Only feet moving above me

Hustling and bustling

Dancing on my head

Sensing an echo

They think it’s their pain screaming at them

But it’s just me 

Cuz I don’t make waves, not a punk 



She daily cultivates a baptism of sorts,

a washing and cleansing away the temptations of

pretense, agenda, and propaganda

in the art she creates. 

She daily sheds the temptation to respond to Zeitgeist,

claiming and asserting, instead, her integrity as an artist,

and making her efforts to let go of the rest: 

what it might do for her,

where it might take her,

how much fame and money it could garner her. 

She knows she needs simply to create, purely,

and celebrate her unabashedly unique stamp.

Like AA (“one day at a time”), she knows this requires

a daily fostering,

because Ego is a brazen and formidable narcotic.

And she knows that the bravest of all acts is to

trust the universe to deliver her art where it will,

and to release ALL ELSE. 

Soul Witness

Without judgment I witness my world

my Self

my growth

my judgmental, panicked mind

the consciousness that is beyond the mind

and the spiritual life that surrounds and enfolds me

Soul Essence

I am light

I am flight

I am abstract

I am without form

or language

even thought

I simply am

I am