I guess it's about staring the train wreck down, right down to the rail road ties, sifting through smoke, metal and memory. "Bravery is not for the beautiful."

Mostly you will find posts that contain poems, paragraphs or narrative non-fiction in process or my thoughts on my writing adventures and of course there may be the occasional rant.

I am currently doing "the grind". It's where one writer invites another to be apart of a group. For one month the group of you email new work every day. That means I am writing every day. I will be updating more often, trying to get a little bit more comfortable putting my work "out there".

Monday, June 23, 2014

Red Ribbon Hospice

We play Skip Bo
Like we are in a Casino,
It's fueled
black coffee quick
and the minutes tick
by
hours,
ticking by days
washing up years
and Lucy died yesterday
with her favorite red nail polish still wet
and it's Pride month
and I am sitting with forgotten ghosts
People talk about AIDS like it happened
and George tells me about falling in love
with a soldier
in the Vietnam war
They tell me about their lives
like they happened
like the story is at it's epilogue

Here, among the florescent lights
hangs
every Tuesday,
scattered coffee mugs,
left overs from lunch
and lives
that aren't
quite
history.
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