Remembering to Remember

I’m listening to music that is all levels of bad. For one thing, it’s Australian. For another, it’s from the (very) early 90s. AND it’s a girl band. Singing pop. But I’m honestly loving it. The music reminds me of that incredibly pure time in my life – when I was living in Sydney with…

walk-around city.

Rain, by Deshan colombo, i wish i could walk around you. on a whim, on a fancy. on a silly dream, to wherever you’ll take me. . i wish i could walk your streets, and get to know you; take pictures of your secret places, your three million hidden faces. . i wish you weren’t…

Ode to Yoga

8 am, and it’s an effort to crack my eyes open to the sunlight streaming in from my transparent curtains. I fumble around for my phone – I know I’ve left it somewhere, either under my pillow or on the growing pile of books beside my mattress. The time tells me I should get up,…

Meat

The pigs wait. Fat pink hides slap against one another as they jostle in the heated shadow of their pen. There is no sound outside but death stagnates the air in their nostrils. And when the door opens, panic aids their capture. Out front, a woman wrinkles her nose at a smell no one but…

An affair to remember

She aches for me, and I for her. The day passes in a haze of impatience for light to leave the world to darkness. For as soon as the shadows fall, my little girl runs to take me to her bed. And under crisp, rustling sheets we watch each other: she, as I dance for…

Rufus

My sometime imaginary lover, he rocks me on the violin. He calls me baby for hours, drawing out the word endlessly; playing on a libido already aching for lazy summertime lovemaking. And he makes poetry of chocolate, of little sisters, of circus magic and cigarettes while I only half-listen, and smile. * Written while listening to…