Yeah, I'm broke..but I'm trying not to add an "n" to the end of that financial description..

Be careful what you ask for...
So I asked for more hours at work and boy, I sure got them..in abundance (in the buttocks) and though I need to work alot for this big move from current hellhole to a new little hellhole all my own...fuck. I am tired. Hard to keep all my bitches in a box these days. Things spilling out, I'm forgetting plans I make, people I'm supposed to call, I was late to work today because I got the time wrong, etc. I agreed to play music for a performance art thing at my friend's art gallery opening on Saturday, and though I feel like I should be exited about it, all I really feel like is:
"Ugh. Another obligation"
How the hell am I going to find time for all this? I am playing a show and I haven't even picked up my concertina in months, guess I'll just show up and wing it.
Met someone new, he's really great but I'm so tired these days I just want to cancel plans and go home to sleep and bathe and eat and do laundry and read and lots of other good wholesome boring fun. How did I ever have time for relationships before?
Waited forever for Greg to be ready to start recording our cd, and now that he's finally ready I'M the one who can't get her shit together to do it.
Yes, I'm bitching...yes, I know there are starving people in China...fuck off.

To be Southern is to be Masochist..

We chase maggots through the wet tunnels of every heart wound.
We wear our sins strung across the chest...
blood on the pearls.
Hang pills from the earlobes.
Circle the wrists with ribbons of tears.
Crunch feet into broken glass slippers.
Every sucking sweet pain...
a public jewelry.


Oh, why am I here putting poems on this fucking thing? Still at the office..all my work is done. There is a party waiting...friends, drinks, jokes.....
Time to put on a pretty face and float out the door on a magic carpet of cool.

Roe vs. Wade/South Dakota

...that mantra, that prayer, that security blanket of all free women...is being unraveled and I am tired of pretending that the disintegration of the rights of others is not a valid threat to my own rights...I am tired of ignoring the fact that I am terrified.

"where does the bank president drink his martini? Where do those who squeeze the juice from the land till it blows red dust in your eye hang out on a Saturday night?
It is easy to kick my dog, my child, my lover, the woman across the desk. People burning their lives away for pennies pile up in neighborhoods like rusting car bodies.
Why not stroll to the corner yacht club and invite the chairman of the board to settle it with his fists?"
-Marge Piercy

Silent Sunlight...welcome in..

Beautiful Day expands its lungs
breathes you back into sunlight
tucks you beneath one matronly paw
licks you clean as a kitten.

Where Dark Day nudged your nose to a corner
made you write 100 times on a blackboard
then sent you to bed with no dessert

This Day dabs your tear-crusted eyes
with a spit-soaked Kleenex
lets a kiss touch your furrowed brow

and says:

"Hush, now.
Go outside and play."



(it is too nice a day for me to not make poems about it)

Lucy, If you really want to send these off to Grandma..

..I suppose that's fine. I don't know. It seems dumb to me..."Happy Birthday! Here's some pictures of ME!! Hooray!" I'm glad you like them, and you are very sweet but I really don't look like that in real life..I have a very pronounced hunchback that is being cleverly disguised...oh, and my festering boils have been edited out due to the computer-saavy Dara. It would give her a false image of me...I really want her to love me the way I am..boils, hunchback, foot-rot and all. Speaking of PICTURES...I still want some of that show that Jess's band was in. Sooo...you give a little, get a little....got it?

Oh, and I like these too...especially with Uba

For the Fam...more of the stuff I did for Dara