Being Catholic


We Hailed Cesar,

We hailed Mary and Grace,

We hailed the priest behind the curtain,

Even without seeing his face.

We hailed the pope

Who invited us to Pray;

Even after he found out

We were openly gay.

We hailed the heavens

When the torrential storm blew in,

We nearly hailed Bill Clinton

Despite his “Sexy Sin”

We crossed ourselves when weak at the knees,

We crossed ourselves in the desert

And from nowhere, felt a breeze

But if there is to be hope,

We must hail our supreme power,

“God,” heal the worlds bitter, violent souls

Who turn our sweet world  sour.



IF I knew you liked Pie?

About to do a follow up. Watch for it this week!


Had you stayed in my life…..I may have not been me.  I may not have loved that boyfriend-that skater boy-the way I did.   My psyche may have preferred quiet of introspection.   I might  enjoy aligning my books in the shelf by color and size?   I may not enjoy recklessly slamming doors and speeding in my car, when I should go slow?      I may not have doted on my lover the one I loved-like no one  should love someone; with every coursing corpuscle and every molecule of oxygen in my hemoglobin…….diminished to a heap of blonde hair and blue jeans, lifeless on his porch when it was over- just  tears keeping me warm.

Had you stayed,   I may have never have reacted as I did-when a man  professed I was somebody; worthy and love-able.     I may have very well understood love differently?    Perhaps it…

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The Human Landscape

Rumbling, the earth trembling;

melding my feet to it,

molten heat;

All the world’s passion

In one room, in one body,

Still shaaaakiiiing;

Morphing one previously childlike mind.

That which liquefies metal

Isn’t hot,

it’s beyond thermal capacity-

St. Helen’s simply sneezed;

During puberty.

There were warnings,

Don’t act so blinded by ash,

Littering just within reach of the magma cone,

Ash like grey snow flakes

if not ash it would be serene….quiet,

A first snowfall.   But hard to breathe.

A once creamy epidermis,

Mottling the surrounds,

Emotions popping up, visibly on the surface

Panicked, parents scramble,

….. Should we connect the dots or make them go away?

Molten lava, fall out, run, don’t gather;

just run.

Childhood was yesterday.

The eruption of adulthood

Is supposed to clear away

Everything in its path?



There is so much more (for Kirsten)

I know you see,

There is so much more

Than the disarray

of my messy floor….

I know you see

I fidget, I fumble;

Lick my wild bang, smooth

As I approach, I stumble….

Still licking it down with the paste of my slobber

My house looks ransacked “untamed” I giggle

“Did you see the Robber?”

As if an untamed curl should evoke such scandal

Can you see there’s more, hope pleads

As I trip on my sandal.

Lines… fresh imprints from my still warm sheets

“Guten Morgen!” I blurt…in a sleepy mumble

Least my toes are polished…I look down at my feet

I’m sorry I didn’t get your early morning tweet?

I shake my head to clear the sleep

My dreams still fresh, ripe with defeat,

But I know you see

That there’ s some much more

And still somehow….

I’m glad,

you’re  at my door

It Ain’t Going Anywhere

You know which path,

You know what Y means,

Go it boldly or don’t go,

Eyes open, head high,

Listening, yes distracted, by the soundtrack-the one that plays in your head,

If you’d Knelt down and whispered in your ear,

yes, you’re own ear,

And once again a little louder,

-you’d have said, “you know better”

Standing next to the Speaker, wearing that hat, having that drink,

A sweaty mosh pit reminded you…..

“You are alive.”

I tell him “Son, ear plugs are cool,”

but don’t stand by the speakers, never;

Knowing his brain cannot jump forward in time.

Mesmerized by the drums, pulsing to a whining guitar,

Always Feeling so much more than the auditory nerves can soak up…..

Angry vocals, raw but playful,

Coming together like sugar and cream;

Nothing store bought could compare…….

honesty is meeting a stranger’s gaze,

Courage is not staving off the awkward moment

but relishing it’s teachings.

Beauty is scraping your broken self from the rubber of your shoe,

Feeling defeated but smarter.

Why did I once wince at the imperfections?

…the humiliation, unrelenting palpitations of hurt,

Handcuffs, eyes swollen from tears, defeat.

Embrace it like you did when you saw your first drag queen,

It’s heart is beating, it is truth and it ain’t going anywhere without you.


Only She Knows

The laundry needs a whirl, The epidermis some exfoliating; That nest of greasy hair…. Could use a tousle with a brush. The whole of her calls desperately For an abundant frolic with some soap, ……or an improvisational meditation, A kneel down; a shout out for hope. No one else can see her illness, No one […]

The Rogue Wave

It’s “just a beverage;”
you tell me;
Something wet,

that quenches,
enlivens your insides,
refreshes wholly
with  newness;
a tactile sensation,
an unexpected pleasant 360′ of emotion,
the flirtation of an ocean wave,
like a smile from across the room,
for you it’s real
for me
it’s not that same wave.
When it soaks you- you run to shore,
When it soaks me, I run in,
that unexpected wave,
I’m the child again,

it’s my first time at the beach
a welcome surprise, my first

rogue wave,
a cool reset on a sweltering day
you’ve tasted it’s salty rim
I hadn’t known I wasn’t alive?
I stood, my soul dripping
what it could not hold,
what it could not quench,
revealing the many tiny holes,
like a sieve it drains slowly at my feet
I am still thirsty same as you.