Broken is the word I guess. But I can't decide whether I'm broken like ground or like glass. Nothing can grow in broken glass. If I must break, I want to break like the ground. Like a river into the…
Nov 8 2015
Nov 8 2015
The Waiting Room (March, 2015)
There are a handful of places on this planet that seem to baptize my insides with a rich and raw sense of being alive. The two that come to mind at this moment are the graveyard, and the Oncology center…
Nov 8 2015
Mom Stuff, Help, Thank You (January, 2014)
While Aaron is at work, I'm seated by his miniature look-a-like who is gnawing on brightly colored toys that would probably prefer a less slobbery form of play.
Meanwhile I am scratching my head because apparently, if my sources (FB…
Meanwhile I am scratching my head because apparently, if my sources (FB…