summertime supper

potato chips and

French onion dip, sunshine, and

fresh watermelon

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

(summertime snow)

summertime snow
cottonwood seeds
float, flit and blow

Women and Spoken Word and Brunch! Oh, My!

Ladies, join us this Sunday for Go Girl Saugatuck's Spirit Sunday Brunch!  I will kick off the spoken word presentation with a set of my own and help to facilitate an open mic session thereafter. 

 

Sunday, June 5, from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m.

Isabel's Market & Eatery

310 Blue Star Highway

Douglas, MI

 

For more information about the entire women's weekend and lineup -- including the brunch -- please visit Go Girl Saugatuck.

PRIDE Poetry Reading

I am happy to announce that I have been asked to read my poem "My One Wild and Precious Life" at this year's PRIDE Poetry Reading, as a part of Holland's 2022 PRIDE celebration.

Wednesday, June 1, from 7 to 8:30 p.m.

Herrick District Library

300 S. River Ave.

Holland, MI

 

Please join us then!

Go Girl Saugatuck: Spirit Sunday Spoken Word Brunch

I am pleased to announce that I will be the featured poet at Go Girl Saugatuck's Spirit Sunday Brunch next month!  I will kick off the spoken word presentation with a set of my own and help to facilitate an open mic session thereafter.  Ladies, please join us as we celebrate our souls!

 

Sunday, June 5, from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m.

Isabel's Market & Eatery

310 Blue Star Highway

Douglas, MI

 

For more information about the entire women's weekend and lineup -- including the brunch -- please visit Go Girl Saugatuck.

(Diarrhea)

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

(The tree bark gleamed)

The tree bark gleamed
with fresh raindrops as
the squirrel scurried home.

Two Faced

A man doesn't obsess

over his face.

It is what it is.

He doesn't even give it

a second thought.

He was born with that face,

was raised with that face,

and grew up with that face.

He went through grade school,

middle school, high school,

and college with that face.

He dated with that face,

started a career with that face,

and formed a family with that face.

Everyone who's ever met him

knows him by that face.

He never reached an age when he was

asked, encouraged, or expected to begin

covering up

his natural, "God-given" face with

moisturizer,

concealer,

base,

powder,

blush,

eyeliner,

mascara,

eyebrow pencil,

three shades of eye shadow,

lip liner,

lipstick,

and lip gloss

every

single

day.

He never hides his true face.

He doesn't spend hours each week

covering his face early in the morning

and uncovering it late at night.

He doesn't spend years

distrusting his real face,

building a life, a career,

a family, a self,

based on a lie, a fake, a coverup.

He doesn't spend a moment

wondering if his actual face

is acceptable

without a full-fledged makeover.

He didn't learn how to

abandon his true face,

distrust his bare, naked face,

disconnect from his real self,

or disassociate from his true face

in order to create a completely

different visage

to present to the world.

He trusts his face

and relies on his face

without even knowing it

or thinking about it.

He just moves through the world

as his self,

with his true, natural, real, actual face,

without fear or worry.

He does this without even a thought.

Meanwhile, a woman

is expected to do the exact opposite --

to model to the entire world

that her true, natural, real, actual,

"God-given" face is unacceptable

and should only be

seen in public

when it is 100% altered --

to become

quite literally

two faced.

(morning tea after)

morning tea after
the morning rain
drop after drop

(excited to finish the book)

excited to finish the book;
sad to see it
end

(My spouse fills our house)

My spouse fills our house
with the scents and sounds of home --
homemade sourdough bread and Tina Turner tunes.

Without a Honk

There were four
of them -- four
graceful geese
gliding over 65
North as the four-
lane interstate
backed up
farther and farther
south. In the midst
of the two-accident
Tuesday morning
turmoil, just as I
began to grip my
steering wheel
in frustration, I
saw the quartet
breezing over
all four lanes
of traffic without
a honk of their own --
so soft, so peaceful,
so content; so intent.
I watched them
split into two pairs
and continue on their
January journey,
as I adjusted my
hands and then
my attitude, without
a honk of my own.

(finishing the last)

finishing the last
glass of eggnog with the last
book of the year

In the Company of Angels

I keep the photo in a box,

the box that my grandmother

gave me one Christmas,

the box that holds a single

glass angel ornament with golden trim.

I tuck the picture

underneath the angel

for safe keeping.

The photograph captures

the Christmas that you

spent with us 18 years ago

in Nashville.

This is the first Christmas

that Grand is no longer with us,

and the first Christmas 

that the two of you,

complete strangers,

will somehow keep each other

company.

Teatime

every sip
every drip
a present
to yourself

watch it steep
inhale deep
stealing moments
for yourself

black, green, white
pure delight
with a friend or
by yourself

Thanksgiving Traffic

Three miles in an
hour and a half --
bumper-to-bumper
interstate congestion and
stomach indigestion,
angry drivers with
hungry kids, no
exit in sight, and
no explanation.
Arrivals delayed;
hugs and hand-
shakes on hold;
dinners postponed.
It was easy to get
irritated and impatient,
until we saw
the white sheet
on the ground.
Suddenly, we were
thankful for the
fume-filled air that
we were breathing.

Ginger Ale at Grandma’s

When I drink ginger ale,

I think of my grandmother,

who always had ginger ale,

White Zinfandel and leftovers

in the fridge at her house --

the house with the 

bamboo in the backyard

and the pool table in the basement,

the house with the fireplace

and long reach matches in the living room,

and the bedrooms that my father and uncles

grew up in upstairs.

When I drink ginger ale,

I remember her contagious cackle

and raise my glass to Grand.