Seasonal Criminals

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.

(Marriage is)

Marriage is
telling each other
what to do with our sores.

Co-written by Rebecca Davenport

(Golden)

Golden:
A grandmother's love,
like the arms of the sun

(the cardinal)

the cardinal
sounding off
like the Fourth of July

with gratitude to Rebecca J. Davenport for a spectacular ending

A Letter to the Predator

Dear straight Christian friend,

When you post a picture of
a burning gay pride flag online,
I am not merely encountering
an expression of an opinion.
I don't simply see a person
making a statement
about an issue.
I don't view it as
an individual "deeply devoted
to a faith based on mercy and grace"
taking a stand amidst a culture war.

I see my friend
advocating -- and perpetrating --
violence against me.
I feel threatened
and frightened
and sickened.
I see -- with my own eyes --
my friend proclaiming
to me and the world
that I am worthy of abuse.
I witness my friend
declaring me fit for
gasoline
and matches
and burning flesh
and torture
and death.

I see that my friend --
my "loving, compassionate, Christ-like" friend --
is not, in fact, my friend at all.

-- Your gay neighbor

Presents from Dad

He was so excited to bring "surprises"
home to us, whether it was a $5 movie
from McDonald's, Sam's Club chocolate
chip cookies, or a two liter of Dr. Pepper.
My sisters and I would laugh at him
and try to downplay his "treats," but it
was his simple, silly, contagious joy
that made the best gift of all.

Woman of the Word

for Julie Jarrett Hall

I remember walking through the backyard
behind our little brick house, singing the lines
to your songs during my afternoon playtime.
I felt important, knowing all the words and
the melodies. Proud of myself, I sang the
verses and choruses out loud, feeling some
sense of connection with your songs and
with you. On those hot summer days, I was
proud of myself, proud of you and proud
to be your daughter.

Happy National Poetry Month!

Why Bother With Poetry

Why bother
with poetry?
Because you're
human.  And,
from time to time,
we humans need
to be reminded of
what's important
in life,
an invitation
to laugh at ourselves,
a spotlight on
injustice in the world,
and permission
to pause, reflect and wonder.

Sticky Fingers: Like a Kid in a Candy Store

Dear Co-worker:

My candy dish is a gesture of goodwill -- meant to be
visited a couple of times during the workday in moderation --
not a vehicle by which to fill your child's entire Easter basket.

Signed,
Your Supposed Sugar Mommy

(Diarrhea)

Diarrhea:
An ugly word to spell;
an even uglier one to expel.

Happy Valentine's Day!

real love: standing in
the bathroom while your partner
poops, just to catch up

Snow Garden

Our yard was a garden
of snow and our father
was the gardener. He
made snow forts and
an obstacle course of
sorts for my sisters and
me in the front yard one
winter. It was an exciting
adventure, and a little
bit scary, but I felt safe
knowing that Dad was
guiding the sled and
guarding the fort. I still
remember his laugh
that day as we squealed
with delight, holding tight
to the orange, plastic sled.

(I'm too sad to take)

I'm too sad to take
the Christmas tree down; it looks
too sad to leave up.

I Love Snow

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.

(bright Thanksgiving day)

bright Thanksgiving day
drinking eggnog on the porch
sunshine and crisp leaves

(cat in a frenzy)

cat in a frenzy:
from the window --
watching falling leaves

Schooled by a Sock

Don't Judge a Look 'til You Hover

I was just schooled by a
black sweat sock
lying in the middle of the road.
I was 100 percent certain it was a
tied-up doggie doo bag
until I was right up on it.

(the leaves mimicking)

the leaves mimicking
the sound of raindrops in the
wooded autumn hills

Weeping Over Spilled Wee-Wee

Apparently, one of my co-workers
got into a pissing contest with herself in the bathroom stall
and lost.

If only she had mopped the floor with herself.

(Five wasps buzzed right in)

Five wasps buzzed right in-
to my face this afternoon.
They really bugged me.