Ground or Glass (April, 2015)

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…

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…

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…