Corn Smelling Paws

We had a slow, stinky ride home on the King car, in the snow. Arthur always hangs close, sits on my foot, smacks his chops nervously and rolls his big brown eyes up at me each time we stop, as if to say “Are we there yet?” He smells ripe. He never, ever has a bath before I pick him up, and his doggie aroma offends even my very tolerant nostrils. But he is warm, and solid beside me, and as I stroke his furry vest, he heaves a mighty sigh, and tears spring to my eyes. I lay my…

View Post

A Hole Where Secrets Live

I know there is a myth where someone digs a hole under the cover of darkness to whisper all of their deepest secrets into. Perhaps this is not so secret… When I am with you, no matter who, or how many other people are in the room, all I can think about is how your lips might feel against mine. I don’t need to own you. I don’t need it to mean that things must change, but if I can’t kiss you so very, very slowly… if I can’t taste you just once, I think I might crawl out of…

View Post

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.” “I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.” – Anais Nin I cut and pasted these quotes last week after a friend posted them to her Facebook profile. They were without quotation marks, or the author’s…

View Post

Today I Cried A Little

My current weekend undertaking was inspired by my beautiful friend Lenni. She just moved into a new apartment which is completely astounding in its meticulous organization. She turned the place upside down, and transformed it into a haven. She has lived in her place a fraction of the time that I have lived in mine, yet hers feels so much more like a home.And so, I’m inspired now to whip this place into shape. It’s a HUGE task. After our last show, and a spell of cocooning and genuine ennui, the Fortress was definitely not ready for visitors. Today I…

View Post

If I Could, I Would Kiss Her Right There

A short story written in the summer of 2008. She heard him yelling before she saw him. “Hey Sister…what up?” With a deep inhale she set her chin and smiled. Whatever. An adult male can ride a skateboard. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s eco-conscious. Or a good sign that he’s fun and playful. Or something. He looked like a blonde Pauley Shore. She wasn’t sure, but she vaguely remembered that Pauley Shore was in jail for something ridiculous like public masturbation, or kiddie porn. Or was that Pee Wee Herman? Anyway, it didn’t matter. It was going to be…

View Post