CHeesecloth Moon A place for poetry, art, photography and some occasional ranting.

  It’s finally come, at long last it’s time to seek my overdue repast, take a stroll over to the watering hole hoist up a glass or two, and clap my fellow napowhackos on the back, strap on my open-toed stilettos and have that dance with Dunc. . Happy and sad, it’s a mixed brew [...]

      . . . . . . . . . . .   At first you wait for the chaotic motes to sink and settle; embrace for a bit the aftermath of being cast aside like a torn up doll for a new toy;   then you dig in and shore up all [...]

Between weighted lids, my mind floats above an urn of ether; my head is nodding; and my feet are trussed in leaden shackles. . I’m so tired; I’ve been Sleepless again, counting the shooting stars; I’m so sleepy I’m a zombie robot. I hope I get some sleep tonight. . The stars stare down in [...]

She’s a a ten pound, flea-bitten fluff ball;  the untiring nemesis of unwary birds and mice; she likes to fang me. . She likes to play with, then eat, anything that moves;  uses the couch, and sometimes my hose, as a scratching post; climbs the drapes daily. . I should have named her Bad Bess. . . [

. . . . . . . . . . . Three mojitos to the wind and a fourth oozing its seductive lure with drops of cold condensation, begging to re-gloss my warm, minty lips; . today’s breakup fiasco fogs and fades into tomorrow land, grants me a temporary pardon to pursue a trip to [...]

        Renoir worshipped us but modern society pooh-poohs our ample curves, our risen dough flesh, our baby got back.   Heft, once thought to be the epitome of good health, was a reason to rise for many a Medieval knight,   but today we are seen as over- indulgent, undisciplined, depressed. We [...

He loved all manner of rich and fatty foods:  kitchen sink ice cream sundaes, double stacker bacon chedder cheeseburgers, the chewy crackling from a roast pork shoulder; . and hated anything remotely related to dieting: counting all those calories, removing all that lovely fat from meat before cooki

  . .   By the sea, where the bluff rolls out its uneven carpet and the monarchs are blown inland by the ocean’s breath, you’ll find me.  I’ll be waiting for the tide to turn, waiting for your return.  Until then I will content myself and watch the boats bobble on the horizon and [...]