Posts for June 30, 2022 (page 2)



Hot flash morning
snowy cold milk kisses my neck
Prepping for the road

Thinking of a pill bug ball up
cozy on the couch
Hookie from the test

black shapes appear to disappear
in thick white air
Ready for the ride

Home now
I lay watching
a cloudless blue afternoon
from the birdless window

High above me
luminescent tree leaf star shine
caught fallen from fog
Look what we can do!
Don’t you worry one bit.



bad tan lines that don’t look quite right
a laugh sounding from a bird outside
picturesque drive capturing sunlight
plane windows visible in smiling eyes
big screens fading away with title lines
salad bowls being scrubbed from the inside
cursing the skyline in hazy midnights
thinking about your body doesn’t feel right
lying in dear friend’s passenger sides
june daydreaming simply floating by


Shifting Shades of Self On The Way From Youth To Elderhood

Cigarettes and roller skates
three inch heels and layered hairdos

polished nails, banana splits
bikinis, martinis, permanent waves

knitting slippers, painting walls
bowls of goldfish, contact lenses

baking biscuits, adopting cats
platform shoes and baby sitting

clip on earrings, disco dancing
foundation makeup, miniature golf

red meat, fried fish, lottery tickets
selling anything, sun bathing

tent camping, working,
sports events of any sort

turkey roasting, chocolate malts
ladder climbing, jogging

given up for good!

-Sue Neufarth Howard


Image of Me

Studying an old photo
now wrinkled & worn
dog-eared and creased.
I’m dawning a diaper & tee
holding onto an old dog’s ear.
I laugh as I look.  Nearly
sixty-seven years old,
though showing its age
not yet faded away.


This Title is Satire

30 days of Heyoka

until next year enjoy one more falsity—
Rses ar red
volets ar blue
try profreadin b4 u post
feelings effectin u.
Its knawt rawcket scence;
squiggle mean werd wrong.
Half self r-e-s-p-e-k-t
like Urethra franken.



Give my uterus to the state,
And sail to open waters
Hoping to be born again
Somewhere where I 
Can live in my body
Without asking to
And not fear its power,
Wondering when my own
Anatomy will be weaponized
Against me; the trigger pulled
By a man in a robe pretending
To be a god. When can I
Be my own damn god?


Orange You Glad I Didn’t Say Banana?

Melon, clay, bronze,
ginger, apricot,
pumpkin, goldenrod,
rust, tiger, fire, 
spice, carrot, ochre,
and willpower orange–
all names for different shades
of orange from a hardware store’s
paint department–orange isn’t really mentioned.

I never understood
the orange palette 
until I went to Vieques,
surrounded by the bright 
blue and turquoise Caribbean Sea,
where the color orange bounces
like a beach ball across the island–
orange is a mango, a voluptuous flower,
the swirl on a mural, the color of an
entire building, the steps leading up.

Orange is a party, orange is delicious, 
Orange is a life well-lived, a surprise–
a color we cannot live without.



My eyes sharply tuned to sounds,
ears focused on snippets of images,
excavating poetry
masquerading as the mundane. 

Images, concepts, stories,
tossed in a basket 
to be unfurled
into ribbons
of words

Late each night I wait to see
what calls out,
or settles in my mind,
to be given voice. 

So thankful June 
only has 30 days. 

I need sleep. 



This water
is a warm sheet of glass
created for the sky
at Sunday’s golden hour
I place myself upon it
we become one. I
silence these jilting limbs
balance a homeostatic buoyancy 
half above and half below
this moment face up (to clouds)
I still myself to nothingness 
absence of strife 
without worry
above thoughts
split from self
numb to sound 

and still
there is you



If I had a time machine,
I would

learn how little say I have in any of it.

What good is exhuming a body that hasn’t been buried yet?