via DeviantArt
via DeviantArt

In the end it was the girl on the pink chrome bike

Not my steaming coffee

Not the ugly billboard touting chocolate donuts

Not the crossing pedestrians

Not the train barreling past

No, only that pretty girl, yielding, poised to ride



oldmapYour A says ah while mine says eh

Let’s plot our vowels

Let’s seek latitude by degrees along that all-too-familiar axis

Me due east
You north

Let’s seek the longitude of our respective consonants

And see where our differences take us


Go ahead

via DeviantArt

Lock me up in your bars of rage;
Open my throat to sing.

Watch my longing escape,
Seeping out faster now.
Watch my blood spread.

Truth is the dirty knife in your hand
And knowing those unknown things.

Fearful still?



Mornin, miss. Lemme show ya where ya headed. Go on’n follow that ocean breeze downa 1 straighta Coconut Grove. Ditch the wheels’n chill. Ya gotta cool your mind. Go on, do what ya wanna. Nothin matters, it’s all good.

Miss, are ya listenin?


My response to this week’s Gargleblaster: Which way to go?

Talking trash in church


“Juanita dared me get inked,” Ana Luz crossed herself then straddled the pew and offered her forearm, palm up.

Mother Fucker, carefully inscribed in Sharpie from elbow to wrist, each letter elaborately disguised. O had legs like a spider.

“Dios mío, chiquita!”


My answer to this week’s Gargleblaster question: Is something crawling on me?


Copyright Jay Moore Photography
Copyright Jay Moore Photography

I’m a girl who runs. I’m a girl who runs on cool spring days straight to the lake and back. I’m a girl who runs in a fleece hoodie to angry boy-music.

Red wings flash from the right: No one ever dies.



Why do birds suddenly appear? 42 words for this year, Mom.


Copyright ExLibris Books
Copyright ExLibris Books

Hands full shelling spring peas and chopping artichokes for ragu.

Valentina said hi through the window. Bare-backed and pushing a wheelbarrow of flowers she stopped all the clocks.

Elbow-deep in pasta dough. “Supper’s at six.”

A bare wrist held high, her reply.




Did you know that according to the Urban Dictionary, clock stopper means someone very ugly? Obviously, I’m reclaiming it. 

I’m fuckin done


“Tell me something old friend: why are you fighting?”

A lotta truth’s inside the barrel of a gun. Truth is I used to crave it.

This last deployment’s like livin in a blow dryer. I’m gonna end up sleepin in a chiller anyway. May as well get a medal for it.


More or less a true story for the Gargleblaster. I swiped some of these phrases from a friend.

A smooth ride

Photo via
Photo via

She’s my obsession.

She’s a graceful red flash against gray concrete. Her hood is low over her glinting silver eyes, hiding her sleek interior. She’s small, strong, and fierce. She hugs her turn and disappears, reappearing seconds later.

She’s everywhere at once.