Posts for June 9, 2026 (page 6)

The wall clocks have all died

in my house.

I look—out of habit—at the bare

kitchen socket,

at the space where time

continued, but has now

disappeared.

I squint at the old digital

substitute I’ve hoisted

to the top of the fridge.

Black numbers fade

under kitchen neon,

remind me how

the hours pass

fast.

Everywhere I look
formulaic blocks of text
separated into
bite-sized

chunks

and “it’s not x, it’s y”

or “and honestly, it was always z”.

Everywhere I look
simplification
streamlined—
ease, ease, ease.

We are setting a generation up for failure
when they don’t have the skills required
to navigate a world
that is complex
and difficult.
Attention spans shrunk
to thirty-second TikToks
most can’t read with comprehension
struggling to write two pages of original thought
because they’ve never sat—
under-stimulated and bored.
With all we have gained
the breadth and depth of knowledge
at the tattoo of fingers on a screen
did we stop to ask
what humanity
we sacrificed along the way? 

she hovered around the classsroom
slender somber face
short grey boy-cut hair
glasses perched on her nose
every day
the same pink cotton dress
with the starched Peter Pan collar
shirtwaist, hem below her knees
every day

in winter
the same grey wool blazer with matching skirt
white shirt, little red necktie 
comfortable shoes
every day

was it the familiar feel of cotton or wool on 
her skin, the safety of repitition
every morning
before she faced a room full of expectant
sixth grade faces waiting for her 
wisdom for the comfort of her voice?

she sent my first story to
 a magazine she
saw me before I saw myself

It swallows me like the ominous
rise of the long hill on my morning

run, when I try to play tricks
on my mind, distract it, make it

think about something,
anything, else—the chattering

robins who flit from one branch
to another, a fenced dog’s unbidden

bellow announcing his existence
to the world at large. But it’s not

enough, and for now
there is only the inescapable

burn of my lungs, sweat pooling
on my back and brow, the endless

familiar lead-heavy drag,
the burden of being in my body.

Since dumped into a hard change that was not my choice last summer, 
change has been hard for me.  But, I have decided to embrace the change
of a new job wholeheartedly.

Choices every day
Happiness is a choice
Always look to the bright side
Never, ever give up
Give it all you’ve got
Everyone struggles, be kind!

With my coffee,
I declare:
This is a good day
to go somewhere.

Where will I go?
I do not know.
Just take it easy
and go with the flow.

My Zoey:

I only have time

seeking good morning
peek their faces from covers
hello mother sun

these bones are tired 
        the kind of tired sleep doesn’t fix

it must be hard living every day like that

    harder than let on
legs  heavy, unmoving 
    living in slow motion

                                    tired, 
                                        so tired

    under my breast
on my ribcage 
    stabbing pain

    a knife of a life
i could have lived 
    instead

    there are easy days
breathing feels like
    privilege 

    but the heavy days
soundwaves
    bounce corner to corner

    thoughts
unfiltered & screaming
    in my mind 

    terror
where unconditional love
    should live

                        then…
                                    contentment 
                                                        just contentment

    heart is full
yet unable to be grateful 
    unable to bask in the sunlight 

    i am jealous  
of other timelines 
    where i am able to feel 

    unaltered, abundant
levels of joy 
    even on heavy days