Line Upon Line

The Art of Great Company

2012-02-11T21:18:00.000-06:00

Thank you to all of you who attended today's performance at The Arts Company. What a great group that gathered; what a great gallery! Special thanks to Betsy, Carolyn, Chris, the Hardins, Joan, Josh, Joy, Rebecca and Sarah for their support! A very special thanks to my partner in rhyme, Randy Foster, and especially to photographer Robert McCurley, who inspired the entire presentation.

You are invited!

2012-02-06T17:20:00.003-06:00

Civil Conundrum
~ Civil War poetry by Randy Foster, Amy E. Hall and Robert McCurley, inspired by the photographs of Robert McCurley ~

Join us for a performance that promises to be both harrowing and humorous!

Saturday, Feb. 11th, from 2 to 3 p.m.
The Arts Company
215 5th Ave. of the Arts
Nashville, TN 37219

* Admission is free, but reservations are required. RSVP to art@theartscompany.com or call 615.254.2040. *

Civil Conundrum Coverage

2012-01-30T11:46:00.000-06:00

My current project, Civil Conundrum -- a collaborative photography-poetry program with Robert McCurley and Randy Foster, was covered in the Nashville Scene's latest issue. Civil Conundrum is part of a larger exhibit called The South Through Eight Lenses & a Code. For more information, visit The Arts Company's current exhibition page.

(ban on "bored" meetings)

2012-01-23T09:46:00.001-06:00

ban on "bored" meetings:
espresso, shortbread cookies;
jazz records on low

In This Wow

2012-01-15T18:48:00.002-06:00

Have you ever
held a book
in your hands
that felt so right?
A book that
felt perfect,
and supple
and soft, but
firm in all the right places?
A book that
belongs
in your hands
at this moment;
at this time?
A book that
was written
years ago
but was meant
for you
right here; right now?
A book that,
in this moment,
makes time and space
make sense
in this place,
in this moment,
in this now?

(always worrisome)

2012-01-11T20:14:00.000-06:00

always worrisome:
unexplained droplets on the
floor next to the john

Tennessean previews my latest project

2012-01-03T17:25:00.003-06:00

Photographer Robert McCurley has asked Randy Foster and me to collaborate on a photo-poetry project re: the Civil War. Sneak a peek at The Tennessean's preview here. More details to come!

(Miles Davis on tap)

2011-12-31T09:46:00.000-06:00

Miles Davis on tap
grape juice in the stereo
a New Year's Eve day

(Christmas cat)

2011-12-23T08:15:00.002-06:00

Christmas cat –
bedside greeting
begins with a pounce

I Love Snow

2011-12-17T10:46:00.002-06:00

for Julie

I remember
the Christmas
that you and I
mended our friendship.
You wore a
cool, retro
fur coat
and we walked to
the park across
the street from
Debbie's house.
That night we
laughed and sang
about snow
with the Christmas
lights shining
behind us
and the future bright;
ahead of us.

A Taste of the Tour

2011-11-13T14:54:00.002-06:00

Randy Foster and I captured some footage at our last stop on the "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" tour. Although our beverage banter heats up when Randy, a master mocha mocker, and I, a loyal latte lover, discuss coffee, we agree that Earl Grey tea deserves a poem of its own. Click here for a taste of our ode to Earl Grey.

(“Beware,” I whispered)

2011-11-06T10:14:00.001-06:00

"Beware," I whispered,
as she entered the wash room
and I darted out.

(You had the chili)

2011-11-03T19:47:00.001-05:00

"You had the chili
today?" I asked, as the next
stall got noisier.

Poetry and coffee and tea! Oh, my!

2011-10-30T10:07:00.002-05:00

Thank you to all of you who attended yesterday's reading at The Jam Coffee House. Special thanks to Bob, Dean, Kate, the Lodls, Rebecca and Rob for their support!

You are invited!

2011-10-25T05:50:00.002-05:00

Join master mocha mocker Randy Foster and me, a loyal latte lover, for a funny, friendly war of words at The Jam Coffee House, as we continue our "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" poetry tour!

Saturday, Oct. 29th, from 5 to 6 p.m.

The Jam Coffee House

1210 Wedgewood Ave.

Nashville, TN 37212

The performance will conclude with a drawing for a coffee- (or tea-) themed prize!

Monkeys and poetry and froth! Oh, my!

2011-10-24T09:37:00.001-05:00

Thank you to all of you who attended yesterday's reading at The Frothy Monkey. Special thanks to Alejandro, Carolyn, Lauren, Radhika, Rebecca and Sandy for their support!

You are invited!

2011-10-10T09:39:00.003-05:00

Join master mocha mocker Randy Foster and me, a loyal latte lover, for a funny, friendly war of words at The Frothy Monkey, as we continue our "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" poetry tour!

Sunday, Oct. 23rd, from 4 to 5 p.m.
The Frothy Monkey
2509 12th Ave. S.
Nashville, TN 37204

The performance will conclude with a drawing for a coffee- (or tea-) themed prize!

Arrears

2011-10-08T10:47:00.002-05:00

Dear Co-worker:

Your poop stain in your underwear
is your problem.
Your poop stain on the office toilet seat
is my problem.

Regards (despite your lack thereof),
Amy

Bookings a-Brewing

2011-09-14T20:53:00.001-05:00

Randy Foster and I are currently booking the fall leg of our A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar... tea and coffee poetry tour. Stay tuned for details! You can also follow the tour as it unfolds and view photos, updates and more here.

(cardinal bathing)

2011-08-22T19:36:00.001-05:00

cardinal bathing
under the coffee shop's
downspout

(The German Queens wave)

2011-08-13T10:32:00.002-05:00

I was disappointed to learn that East Nashville's Tomato Art Fest does not include the Hot Tomato Haiku Contest this year. I enjoyed writing the following piece while still hoping the festival would add the contest to their lineup.

The German Queens wave
red flags and boas brave from
a Germantown rave.

Another Work Poem

2011-08-03T15:52:00.000-05:00

In Memoriam: This is the third in a series honoring the soon-to-be defunct Borders bookstore. While at work, I often daydream about escaping to a bookstore or coffee shop.

I write my best
poems at work on
company stationary
and company time
on rainy Fridays when
all I want to do is
escape to a coffee shop
or bookstore and sip
the day away surrounded
by books, magazines
and literary dreams.

Note: This is one of the pieces featured in my latest chapbook, Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice, a collection of tea and coffee poems co-authored by Randy Foster.

Bookstore Boar

2011-08-02T10:15:00.000-05:00

In Memoriam: This is the second in a series honoring the soon-to-be defunct Borders bookstore. I wrote this poem a few years ago in the Brentwood (Tenn.) Borders cafe.

"We have a no-snoring
policy," she assured me
from behind the counter.
The large man in the
true blue sweat suit and
camouflaged vest had been
disturbing my reading for
10 minutes and counting.
The deep, nasal vacuum
vortex sounded more like
an industrial machine
than a man. The barista
called for the manager
as I angrily took out
my notebook to write.

Bookstore

2011-08-01T16:17:00.003-05:00

In Memoriam: I wrote this poem a few years ago in Borders about Borders. I'm having a hard time coming to terms with the end of the bookstore's era.

The silence of readers reading,
the screech of the espresso machine,
the whispered conversations shared
between bites of bagel, biscotti and bisque,
each one a part of the quiet community --
learning, leaning and listening.

Note: This is one of the pieces featured in my latest chapbook, Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice, a collection of tea and coffee poems co-authored by Randy Foster.

I Am Abuzz

2011-07-24T12:49:00.000-05:00

I feel as if
the windows to the world
have been thrown open, like
french doors flung wide
to reveal before me
oceans once unseen
countless hills of green
and a slate scrubbed clean.

Thank You

2011-07-09T21:25:00.001-05:00

Thanks to all of you who attended the fourth stop on our tea and coffee tour this afternoon. Special thanks to Alyssa, Brandi, Chris, Greg, the Hardins and Joy for their support!

(He bites his hangnails)

2011-06-27T19:16:00.000-05:00

He bites his hangnails
and spits them out next to me
during staff meetings.

Touring and Pouring

2011-06-24T13:38:00.002-05:00

Randy Foster and I look forward to the next stop on our tea and coffee poetry tour:

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar..." Tour
Saturday, July 9th, from 2 to 3 p.m.
Music City Java & Juice
The Factory at Franklin
230 Franklin Road #11A
Franklin, TN 37064
(615) 435-3694

Come and join us for tea, poetry, coffee, toffee and more...as we pour!

A Note of Thanks

2011-06-18T19:14:00.001-05:00

Thanks to all of you who attended the third installment of our tea and coffee tour this afternoon. Special thanks to Cory, Joy, Lindsay, Mitzi and Rebecca for their support!

The Tea and Coffee Tour Continues

2011-05-30T20:49:00.001-05:00

Join us for more bitter and sweet poems, as well as terrific beverages at the third stop on the poetry tour dripping with both disdain and delight!

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour
Saturday, June 18th, from 2 to 3 p.m.
The Good Cup
2181 Hillsboro Road
Franklin, TN 37069
(615) 591-2326

Universe or Bust

2011-05-25T09:30:00.000-05:00

I feel like
there are a million
helium balloons
inside of me
waiting to be released
into the world --
stories and statements,
ideas and innovations,
poems and proclamations.
They bounce against
the ceiling of my
heart and mind,
each bulging, beckoning and begging
to be next in line
to launch into legacy;
my life's legendry.

Those That Thirst Will Be Filled

2011-05-21T22:01:00.000-05:00

Thanks to all of you who attended the second installment of our tea and coffee tour this evening. Special thanks to the Fosters, the Hardins and Rebecca for their support!

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour Continues

2011-05-18T19:38:00.002-05:00

The next stop on the tea and coffee poetry tour will be as follows:

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour
Saturday, May 21st, from 7 to 8 p.m.
Maxximo Jo's Coffee
1212 Murfreesboro Road
Franklin, TN 37064
(615) 791-9822

Join us for bitter and sweet poetry, fantastic drinks, and arguably the best homemade gelato in town!

Thank You to the Thirsty

2011-05-16T09:36:00.003-05:00

Thanks to all of you who attended the debut of our tea and coffee tour on Saturday afternoon. Special thanks to the Grimeses, Joan, the McCurleys, Rebecca, the Rowes and the Woodards for their support!

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour Kickoff

2011-05-09T10:29:00.002-05:00

Randy Foster and I will kick off our coffee house tour this Saturday at The Coffee Beanery in Franklin, Tenn! We will be reading our bitter and sweet, naughty and nice poems about tea and coffee. Come and enjoy a performance dripping with disdain and delight! Copies of our brand new chapbook, Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice, will be available for purchase, as well as Coffee Beanery's delicious assortment of sandwiches, drinks and desserts.

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour
Saturday, May 14th, from 2 to 3 p.m.
The Coffee Beanery
1010 Murfreesboro Road
Franklin, TN 37064
(615) 790-9553

We hope to see you there!

Thank You

2011-05-08T20:18:00.000-05:00

Thanks to all of you who attended Women's Work this afternoon. Special thanks to Greg, Joan, Joy, Julie, Lindsay, Melissa, Rachel, Randy, Rebecca and Sarah for their support!

Poetry Performance This Sunday

2011-05-03T10:03:00.000-05:00

I will be presenting some of my poetry this Sunday at Nashville's fifth annual Women's Work festival. Come and enjoy an afternoon of original poetry and spoken word presented by lovely lady poets!

Sunday, May 8, at 2:30 p.m.
Z. Alexander Looby Theater
Looby Branch Library
2301 Rosa L. Parks Blvd.
Nashville, TN
$5

For more information or to purchase tickets in advance, visit the Tennessee Women's Theater Project online.

Tennessean Covered Women's Work

2011-05-02T11:05:00.001-05:00

The Tennessean ran a story on this month's Women's Work festival yesterday and I was lucky enough to be included in the piece!

National Poetry Month comes to a close

2011-04-30T10:00:00.000-05:00

On this, the last day of National Poetry Month, I wanted to repost one of my answers to the question "Why write poetry?"

The Reason I Write Poetry

I notice things --
everything.

Then I get

lost in thought

about them --

why they're done,

how often

and by whom --

sometimes

at the most

inopportune times --

during a meeting

with a co-worker,

my tax advisor

or the dentist.

And then I feel

the need to

capture my thoughts

on paper --

so I won't forget them.

And, on most days,

I have just enough

arrogance

to share what I've

put into writing

with someone else,

perhaps to validate

that I'm, in fact, alive.

Brand New Poetry Chapbook Out Today

2011-04-26T09:47:00.000-05:00

My fourth chapbook, a collection of tea and coffee poems co-authored by my friend and fellow poet Randy Foster, is available as of today! Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice: Where Bitter Meets Sweet features naughty and nice pieces about caffeinated beverages that will have you buzzing with delight! To find out how you can purchase your copy of Sugar and Spice, contact me at hall_amy_e@hotmail.com. Drink well!

Poached by an Egg

2011-04-24T08:44:00.000-05:00

Finished the last of
the hard-boiled eggs
this morning and
stabbed my thumb --
the shell shards
actually drawing blood.
I never knew
Easter eggs could
be so violent.

Happy National Poetry Month!

2011-04-22T15:03:00.000-05:00

In honor of National Poetry Month, I'm rerunning an oldie, but a goodie.

When I Read a Good Poem

When I read a good poem,
I hold
each
word
for a
moment
in my mouth
before
---- moving
on to the next one, like
one
bite
of creme brulee
after
another.

Women's Work 2011

2011-04-10T15:15:00.000-05:00

I've been invited to present my poetry at the fifth annual Women's Work festival on Sunday, May 8th. More details to come!

(talking to herself)

2011-04-02T16:19:00.000-05:00

talking to herself
two stalls down -- no Bluetooth
headset in sight

Vowels and Bowels

2011-01-18T18:39:00.001-06:00

I hate it when

you know you're

going to have to

poop soon, but not yet,

and you're on your way

to work

(or a court date

or a TV interview).

You know it's coming

soon, but you don't know

how soon.

You could be

in the middle of a

sentence in meeting

when, suddenly,

your stomach begins

to churn and

your bowels begin

to burn.

You can't always

escape to a restroom

the moment you need one.

You try to smile and

continue your interview

(or conference call

or cross examination)

with some modicum

of decorum, but

all you can think of is

"POOP!"

All you want to do

is find a nice,

secluded stall

and let it fly.

Instead, you're stuck

in a light brown room

expected to string turds

(I mean words)

together intelligently

with a pile

(I mean smile).

(such a young woman)

2010-12-30T09:24:00.001-06:00

such a young woman
wearing such an old fragrance

While Listening to Julie Lee's "The Other Half"

2010-12-22T10:59:00.005-06:00

Which version do you like best?

(original version)

I got chills
when I heard
your voice.
And then my eyes
began to water.
A tiny firework
went off
in my heart.
And then
the muted trumpet
came in.
I closed my eyes
and got lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(alternate version)

The sparse
guitar work
set the mood.
I took a deep breath.
And then
the muted trumpet
came in.
I got chills
from my shoulders
to my ankles
when I heard your voice.
My eyes
began to water
and a tiny
firework
exploded somewhere
in my chest.
I shook my head,
closed my eyes
and got lost.

You can check out Julie Lee's music here.

Untimely Departure (Cat Got Your Dung)

2010-12-15T15:41:00.002-06:00

Sometimes
Mother Nature calls
at the most
inopportune times.
I get up early
so that I can
get to work early.
But Mother Nature
interrupts my plan
with an exit strategy
of her own.
Once I honor her urging
and take a seat,
just a few moments
into our session,
she decides to be
difficult and stubborn.
My extra minutes

waste away

and my momentum slows
to a screeching
halt.

I will not be

early today
thanks to the delay
down under.
I am stalled
and stuck
and stationed
on the stool
for as long as it takes
for Mother Nature
to drop her kids off
at the pool.
And eventually,
once I finally
arrive at work,
I search for a
truthful, yet tactful
explanation for my
late state of affairs.
I could say,
"Traffic was stuck;
nothing was moving."
But, I settle on
"an urgent call
from my mother"
and leave it at that.

The Hall Sisters: Circa 1994

2010-11-29T19:29:00.002-06:00

We knew our

whole world

was about to change.

I cried the entire

four-hour trip

to campus

and the two of you

held each other
in the living room

all morning.

We were

letting go of life

as we knew it,

knowing that we

would survive

the changes ahead
but not knowing
exactly how.

We had been together

all of our lives --

through every move,

in every new house

and every new city.

We shared friends and

hobbies and teachers.

Now we would be

in different states

with 207 miles between us.

I opened your letters

like beautifully

wrapped packages

and read each one

between nose blowing

and cheek dabbing.

I think I used

an entire box

of Kleenex

driving up to Michigan,

thankful that I didn't

decide to go to school

in Portland.

Just One of Those Things

2010-11-15T17:53:00.002-06:00

It's strange --
funny, really --

that one

woman can

walk into

the restroom,

lock her

stall door,

create a

mammoth sound

from one

tiny hole,

and walk

out of

the bathroom
in silence.

Holy Sit

2010-11-09T13:01:00.004-06:00

When I take my seat
in the bathroom,

I am participating

in one of the most basic,

yet marvelous

human functionalities.

We have been created

with a remarkable

self-cleaning service.

(Who but a master

designer would have

conceived of this?)

So, when I sit

on the john and

take a dump,

something holy

is happening.

I am at once

connected to the

brother and sister hoods

of the earth

and to God.

Jitters

2010-10-12T20:07:00.002-05:00

It didn't last long.
And I'm sure

the sterile, hospital-

flavored walls and

floors didn't help.

The java joint's decor

was more akin

to a church

romper room

than a hip, cozy hang.

Failures aside,

every time I pass

that office space

in my college town,

I remember the

Styrofoam cups of

espresso I drank there

with my rock

band buddies

as we played

Uno and laughed

'til closing time.

(orange passion fruit)

2010-10-04T17:53:00.001-05:00

orange, passion fruit;

jasmine green tea -- like sipping

sunshine in a cup

Fresh and in the Can

2010-09-30T07:26:00.003-05:00

Sometimes I just know
a poem's about to drop.
It's a feeling not unlike
the feeling I get
when my bowels are about
to move -- a bottoming out
type of sensation
that tells me
I better find
a piece of paper
(or a toilet) fast
because something's
about to plop out.
Sometimes I get that
nervous panicky feeling
when it's "time"
and I can't seem
to find any paper
(or a toilet).
My breathing gets shallow,
my armpits begin to sweat
and my mouth gets dry.

Ever notice that a
delayed delivery
results in nothing but
a constipated effort later?
The more it's postponed,
the more plugged up it gets.
It's better to let nature
take its course
while the urge is fresh.
Things move a lot

more freely that way.

Fortunately, more
times than not,
I find what I need
just in time
to avoid a blockage.

The Reason I Write Poetry

2010-09-27T19:02:00.000-05:00

I notice things --
everything.

Then I get

lost in thought

about them --

why they're done,

how often

and by whom --

sometimes

at the most

inopportune times --

during a meeting

with a co-worker,

my tax advisor

or the dentist.

And then I feel

the need to

capture my thoughts

on paper --

so I won't forget them.

And, on most days,

I have just enough

arrogance

to share what I've

put into writing

with someone else,

perhaps to validate

that I'm, in fact, alive.

(As she entered the)

2010-09-25T17:35:00.001-05:00

As she entered the

ladies' restroom, I whispered,

"I didn't do it."

The Mayan Mocha

2010-09-24T10:09:00.000-05:00

Like Pop Rocks --
starts out sweet
and explodes in your mouth

Baptismal Brew

2010-09-23T10:34:00.002-05:00

I've been told
that I behave like
Satan's handmaiden
before I have my
morning coffee.
My emotions
do a demon drop,
my fingertips
begin to itch
and my head spins around
like the bride of Chucky.
After the first few sips
of the redemptive brew,
I am baptized
into new life
or, at least,
a new day.

Cryptic Residents

2010-09-17T09:39:00.004-05:00

On bad days,
apartment living
can feel like life
in a mausoleum.
Sandwiched in between
crumby people,
you're stuck in a
slot above and
below folks that
you don't know.
Some days stink
more than others.
Some days you have
grave concerns
about your neighbors.
Other days, you're
dead wrong about them.
Every so often you
may be scared stiff.
Occasionally, you can
rest in peace,
knowing that
the days will pass
without too much
heartache.

Tough Stuff

2010-09-16T09:31:00.000-05:00

I know life is hard
and that things can be
particularly rough
in the bathroom.
But do you really need
to vocally testify
to your difficulty
in the office restroom?
There is such a thing
as quiet desperation.
I wish for you a
silent elimination,
and for myself,
emancipation
from your proclamation.

(hearing the big blast)

2010-09-15T10:19:00.001-05:00

hearing the big blast,
grateful I exited the
ladies room intact

(trailing the attorney)

2010-09-14T09:33:00.001-05:00

trailing the attorney
choking on the perfume
I wore in high school

(IT programmer)

2010-09-08T17:31:00.000-05:00

IT programmer
digging for major boogers

in his cubicle

Seasonal Criminals

2010-09-04T12:21:00.001-05:00

There's something about
summertime sandals --

they're too much

to handle

when it comes to

the stench that

sweaty feet and

leather create.

My nostrils don't

celebrate or salivate about

the smell that emanates

from the partnership

that perpetrates

heinous crimes
against olfactory.

Dreamboats That Pass in the Night

2010-09-03T10:20:00.001-05:00

Last night I dreamt
that you were into me.
Out of the blue,
you knew what to do
to influence me.
Truth is, we're married
to other people
and I've never thought
of you like that before.
Somehow last night's dream
opened up some subconscious door.
This morning I saw you
at your desk and felt
a strange connection.
It'll pass in a few days,
just like the indignation
and exasperation
I felt toward the
co-worker I once dreamt
cheated on his wife
with my little sister.

Friday Afternoon Fever

2010-08-23T17:50:00.001-05:00

It's amazing how creative
one can be when
procrastinating.
On Friday afternoon
at 3:17, my co-workers
and I walk around
like lost children,
shifting from desk,
to break room,
to bathroom,
to the god-forsaken
basement
(in extreme cases).
Non-smokers consider
taking up nicotine
as they watch the smokers
congregate under the trees.
"That doesn't look half
bad," my manager quips
as he observes the
addicts' 15 minutes of
freedom
"on the outside."
Back at our desks, we
try to drum up small
talk about
The Golden Girls,
The Office, and
Saturday Night Live;
then return to our
monitors for more
Web surfing.
The neighbor in the
cube next door mutters,
"It feels like we've been
here for six days…
and that's just since
eight o'clock."
Eventually, five o'clock
will arrive, saving us from
overdoses on bad coffee,
stale corn chips and
shoddy Web sites.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #8

2010-08-20T10:19:00.001-05:00

What do you call five
year olds with gentle green thumbs?
Tendergardeners.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #7

2010-08-19T11:27:00.002-05:00

What do tomatoes
and kindergartners have in
common? Cut and paste.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #6

2010-08-18T20:51:00.001-05:00

birth from the earth, red
as placenta, inside the
new life -- tiny seeds

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #5

2010-08-17T16:28:00.002-05:00

earth MATERial
symbol of MATERnity
red MATÉRiel

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #4

2010-08-16T16:51:00.002-05:00

Launch me in the air
but watch your back. I'll turn you
red when I go splat.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #3

2010-08-15T16:13:00.001-05:00

I am weaponry
like snowballs and grenades but
make tastier raids.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #2

2010-08-14T16:43:00.001-05:00

Stew wined and dined her
even though Brandy was a
bit dicey that day.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #1

2010-08-13T18:36:00.001-05:00

Brandy was green with
envy -- Stew inherited
the favored heirloom.

Tomato Haiku Contest - Last Day to Enter

2010-07-31T09:30:00.003-05:00

All entries for the Hot Tomato Haiku Contest are due by 11:59 p.m. today. The grand prize winner will receive an iPad! May the best MATERial win!

(I held my breath.)

2010-07-30T09:43:00.000-05:00

I held my breath.
Lunch was unkind to the
previous pooper.

(woman in the stall)

2010-07-21T17:55:00.001-05:00

woman in the stall

next to me smacking her gum

like a three year old

(birth from the earth, red)

2010-07-07T09:34:00.003-05:00

birth from the earth, red
as placenta, inside the
new life -- tiny seeds

Nashville's Hottest Haiku Contest

2010-07-06T13:56:00.002-05:00

It's tomato time again! Consider entering the Tomato Art Fest's third annual Hot Tomato Haiku Contest. The results promise to be juicy!

To Serve and Observe

2010-07-03T14:11:00.000-05:00

The life of a security guard
must be fascinating --
becoming intimately
acquainted with
everyone's comings

and goings,

learning who loves
to race the sun
to work every morning
and who tends to
push the snooze button
seven times too many,
who runs out for an
afternoon soy latte
every day or a "secret"
rendezvous with

Veronica or Vinny.

Some may say that
your security guard
knows you better
than you know yourself.
Rather than your own
self-justified, rose-colored
glasses, he only sees you
through the clear lens
of the revolving door.

(wicked rump rupture)

2010-07-02T08:34:00.001-05:00

wicked rump rupture
shocking as acupuncture
ladies’ room juncture

(What do you call five)

2010-06-18T09:43:00.000-05:00

What do you call five
year olds with gentle green thumbs?
Tendergardeners.

(What do tomatoes)

2010-06-17T17:46:00.000-05:00

What do tomatoes

and kindergartners have in

common? Cut and paste.

Logging Lab Time

2010-06-15T21:23:00.001-05:00

I was just another
experiment
to you --

just another
vial of blood
to spin in your

laboratory machine.

You were only interested

in the raw data --

the results of your

scientific investigation.

You invested time into

our relationship

so that you could

observe and analyze

the case study

sleeping next to you.

But I was more than
anatomy, biology

and chemistry.

I was more than

eyes and hips and lips.

My heart beat with

real emotion and

sincere love for you.

I realized way too late

that you saw me

through the eyes
of a doctor,

not a lover.

I guess that's why

you were so

cold and calculating.

You saw me as mere

research --
another lab rat --

just another
opportunity

to log in some lab time.

The Post-Vacation Blues (Salvation by Strawberries)

2010-06-11T07:31:00.003-05:00

Today, my cubicle
feels like a cage.
I want to be
five hundred and
thirty-seven miles
away, sitting in my
favorite coffee shop
with a caramel latte
in one hand and
a book in the other.
I want to be in
the home of my
alma mater with
the one I love,
chasing sunsets
and sailboats and
strawberry Sundays.

(sitting on the pot)

2010-06-09T17:48:00.004-05:00

sitting on the pot
in a strange town -- suddenly
all the lights go out

Power Conservation

2010-06-08T20:43:00.002-05:00

He's the kinda guy that
makes your skin crawl
right into the corner.
He's a short man,
good-looking,
but way too cocky.
After surviving
the creeps that
linger in the air
next to my booth
after he finishes
his lunchtime greeting,
I kinda feel sorry
for the guy.
He clearly has
Short Man syndrome --
he works way too
hard to be confident,
suffocating the
great guy that
lies beneath his
attempts at suave-a-tude.
I consider forgoing
my reading booth lunch routine
just to avoid one more
unsolicited stroll-by,
but decide to favor
my pity for the fool
rather than my revulsion.

(first firefly of)

2010-06-07T17:44:00.002-05:00

first firefly of
the season -- almost as bright
as the light in your eyes

Confessional

2010-05-13T09:42:00.002-05:00

I have a taste
for the dark side.
And my two-fisted
drink preparation
gives me away
every time.

I make it a double,
now that one
simply doesn’t
cut it anymore.
My tolerance has
increased, as has
my thirst.

Does that make me
a junkie,
an addict?
Perhaps.

I’m not ashamed
of my need
for that extra shot.
It makes the day
tolerable,
worth living,
and I’m not afraid
to admit it.

You want me to
own up to the truth
for my
own good?

Well, fine.
I’ll shout it
from the rooftops.

I’VE TAKEN TO STEEPING
TWO TEA BAGS AT ONCE!

Thank You

2010-05-11T09:30:00.001-05:00

Thanks to all of you who attended Women's Work Sunday night. Special thanks to Annie, Randy and Rebecca for their support!

Women's Work Tonight

2010-05-09T13:11:00.002-05:00

I hope to see you tonight at Women's Work. This festival, sponsored by the Tennessee Women's Theater Project, is one of my favorite events of the year. Every mother will receive a free rose! Join us!

Sunday, May 9, at 5:30 p.m.
Z. Alexander Looby Theater
Looby Branch Library
2301 Rosa L. Parks Blvd.
Nashville, TN
$5

Poet Hunt Contest

2010-05-03T16:46:00.003-05:00

I just mailed my submission for The MacGuffin's 15th National Poet Hunt Contest. The winners will be announced in September. As always, any good news will be posted here. Feeling lucky, gutsy or needy? Why not submit your own poems? Best of luck to all!

In the words of John Shore, "Believe you’re a genius. Hey, someone’s gotta be. Why not you? And it’s surely not your goal to be a mediocre writer, is it? Believe you’ve got a unique, valuable, indispensable, irreplaceable voice. Because you do."

Poetry Performance at Women's Work

2010-04-30T11:15:00.004-05:00

I will be sharing some of my poetry next Sunday at Nashville's fourth annual Women's Work festival. Come and enjoy an evening of original poetry and spoken word presented by lovely lady poets!

Sunday, May 9, at 5:30 p.m.
Z. Alexander Looby Theater
Looby Branch Library
2301 Rosa L. Parks Blvd.
Nashville, TN
$5

For more information or to purchase tickets, visit the Tennessee Women's Theater Project online.

Women's Work 2010

2010-04-20T11:16:00.002-05:00

I've been invited to present my poetry at the fourth annual Women's Work festival on May 9th. Stay tuned for more details!

Out Today: Newspaper Blackout

2010-04-13T09:44:00.001-05:00

Today is the day! Austin Kleon's debut, Newspaper Blackout -- a book in which I ALMOST had a poem published -- is available in stores everywhere. I can't wait to hold a copy in my hands!

Poached by an Egg

2010-04-08T19:44:00.003-05:00

Finished the last of
the hard-boiled eggs
this morning and
stabbed my thumb --
the shell shards
actually drawing blood.
I never knew
Easter eggs could
be so violent.

Newspaper Blackout Poem Print Giveaway

2010-04-07T14:27:00.003-05:00

As the release of Austin Kleon's Newspaper Blackout nears, Kleon is offering another great newspaper blackout poem print giveaway. (I've already got my "name in the hat" -- twice.) Read more here and good luck!

The Virgin Mary

2010-03-27T23:24:00.003-05:00

To Mary Karr

I read about your
childhood rape experience
during lunch today.
I wanted to scream,
"No! Stop the little bastard!"
or "Run!" or
"I am so, so sorry."
I had to put the
book down
in order to
keep myself from
running down the
aisles of the cafe,
shaking the book
in the air and yelling,
"She's only SEVEN!"

I wanted to snatch
that little girl up
out of the book
and into my arms.
I wanted to
tell your daddy
and the rapist's
father about the crime
while I had them
in the same room
and let the chips
fall as they may.
Instead, I closed
the book and
stared at my
chicken lo mein
while the lunch crowd
erupted around me.

(Reading about the)

2010-03-24T17:55:00.001-05:00

Reading about the
rape of a seven-year-old
girl -- stunned, sad and pissed.

Work Out Your “Bowelvation” With Rear End Trembling

2010-02-25T19:35:00.002-06:00

There are few things
more satisfying
than a good poop.
Not the poop itself,
of course, but
the act of
eliminating
the dogged doodie.
After a good dump,
all seems right
with the world
(or at least
with your bowels).
You can breathe
deep again
and leave the can
with your shoulders back,
ready to take on
the next meeting,
class or diaper,
knowing that,
in the end,
things have a way of
working out.