the ones you dread
we are the chosen ones,the illegitimate sons,the incested daughters,the smudged facesof orphans,kicking a dirty soccerballthrough dusty, drunken lots.we hold a secretdeep down in our shirts,a midnight cry, a city scream,a heart-hurt,like an M-80 frozenhalfway through explosion.we are the ones you dread,the same ones you put hope in;for we will find our way,and in finding ours, we will find the mapfor you tofind yours.

dog -- GOD
dog -- GOD it is God who is weepingas that dog,moaningfor its owner,a molecule of pure feelingsurrounded by energy fieldswoven into energy fields –that are manifesting the body of a mongrel.that dog knows a thing or twoabout how muchit sucks,cheeks puffing,eyes glistening,yelps minutely escaping jowls,jowls clenched againstthe whole fucking WORLD! loss and love and longingand loss and loganberry pieand licking his feet... licking, sniffing,and licking, kissing his feet... he is now licking the feet of the beloved,who has stepped out of the c

jars of green glowing
jarsof greenglowing silver-blue,overflowing,flowing into the sink,circling down,counterclockwiseinto the disposallittle beingsof sun-stricken grief,struck to heart bydesire to seethe sun that hasgiven us energyand a hand up the puppet'sneck to belief;the star-blue star wreckof impossible broken heart healings;lift color to a new zone --zone of evolutionary knowing.

quantum squirrels
squirrelsrun inwavelengthswhich course throughtheir bodies,making them earthyoscillations,furry surges of joy,I imagine, akin andconnected to variationsthat lie in the pocket of the Universe.I saw a brown squirrelwith a white tail in the park today.a white tail.I don't know the frequency of sucha sighting,but I have never seena squirrelsuch as this one.perhaps in the hip pocket,the hip,of a greater Woman than any of us,lies a wonderment that,in wave form,touches us in countless ways –such as when a squirrel with white tailmakes an appearance

Better Than We've Known (teen novel) -- Introduction
I am rewriting a teen novel. Below is the narrator's introduction. Things weren’t going too well. Not for the nation, not for the world – not for me. Winter, 2004. We had just elected George W. Bush for a second term. Not that I minded the dude personally. Just that I didn’t understand what the hell he was doing. What was that war all about? People said he did it for the oil, for the money. I don’t think about money like that, so I couldn’t see anyone else thinking like that. All I knew was that I didn’t know, and that I didn’t like it. As a nation, we were hated, berated and soon to be deflated in the mess we created. W