Posts for June 13, 2026 (page 2)

This morning I abruptly awoke
To the sound of a sputtering engine 
Confused I lay there for a while 
Trying to decipher if I was really awake
I didn’t know where the sound came from 
Was it our own yard or the neighbors 
I reached behind me to feel for my husband 
His warm body still lay heavy in slumber 
The sputtering engine indeed was in our yard
I eased out of bed and crept down the stairs 
There, looking out the kitchen window 
I peered to see our oldest daughter bent over the mower
She was frustrated and confused by the look on her face 
I went to discuss the situation with her 
My husband had been having a rough week
Already tired and worn from the work of multiple jobs
She had hoped to surprise him with a fresh cut lawn 
She had somehow flooded the engine
And compacted the grass around the blades 
Even though I explained none of the mowing was necessary 
She was adamant that it was getting done, and only by her
For Dad
So I opted to help with things and get out of her way 

All of her life, I have taught her independence 
To rely on no partner for anything 
Not necessarily with words, but in action 
Until, 
I met my husband 
She had never witnessed me lean on anyone 
I had been both roles at all times 
Mom and dad, the woman and the man 
In her eyes there was nothing 
Her mom couldn’t and wouldn’t do 
If I didn’t know how, I would figure it out 
Until, 
I met my husband 
Life never asked me or us if we were tired
Or if we wanted to be soft and dainty 
There was no time for feminity 
Until, 
I met my husband 
Although I offered for myself or one of her brothers 
Who could and would most definitely help 
We could all at the very least take turns 
She simply refused and said she wanted to do it 
For Dad
So I stayed outside with her and watched
Bringing her water and making her take breaks 
As she mowed each section of the yard 
My once baby girl had now become my likeness 
A strong-willed young woman amongst men
Until, 
I met my husband 
Now, we weren’t acting out of survival 
This was mere love and gratitude 
For her Dad
My Husband 

of Häagen-Dazs strawberry icecream
onto the kitchen floor, 

popped right off the spoon
and into ruin,

fresh blobs of pastel blood splatter–

so much sweetness
lost to me.

to be born in lore 

            in the house
Where I couldn’t sleep a solid
three or four weeks,
Three AM and past
where the vacuum might run
            in the house
            i couldn’t sleep
Ignored the holes in plaster and
broken doors, near-
broken, like violent hands 
ignored pleas to stop
            in the house
            i couldn’t sleep
            i couldn’t leave
You there, leave him, leave me,
But you could and took all
but me, awake every night
you weren’t there to watch me
            in the house
            i couldn’t sleep
            i couldn’t leave
            in this house

Harvesting stones, I gather,
wrenching piece by piece a wall
of darkness. I pay no mind,
day almost forgotten 
               Out of bed
               Made the coffee

               and a piece of bread
absurd twelve hours harvesting stones,
hands on the clock,
a wall of darkness the other
side
almost forgotten 
C
rept
round the crook,
bolster the sinking sun,
peaceful sounds.

Made some coffee
Cut the lights
Harvesting stone
Almost forgotten 
Abolished past
Wrenching a piece
the other side, texture,
form, segments’ shadows.
Of all the horrors,
like amber.
Now remember the planting.

Free from opinions,
and the ongoing drama
in them folks’ lives.
Nothing to do with ol’ me;
gonna stay in my own lane.

Not interested
in the gossip of the hour.
I’m self entertained.
I don’t care much anymore.
Peace is my best friend these days.

you’re the line
on which
you’ve pulled me across
into the expanse of 
universes 
where I’m happy
and you’re there
hands in mine
while stars are created
massive explosions
energy exponentially 

you are billions of years
curving inward 
possibilities unfolding
those lips
between manicured nails
flashing in the orange street lights
light laughter bouncing 
through the holograms
of reality

all of it ends
with the taste of your skin
and a long exhale
cool half-lidded smile

knowing what you do
to someone like me

Ordain Our Oneness, Organic

i’ve always been 
a bit of a
rebel
fighting against the
establishment 
and the system 
in a philly shell
i put my socks on
first
when i dress in the morning 
sometimes i eat my pizza 
starting with the
crust
and i always liked
to zag
before 
i zigged
once they got your fastball 
figured out kid 
that’s when you throw 
the slider 

dip an ear into the river and listen
to footsteps as they walk away
along paths wet with tears —
no threads anywhere here to lead
astray mortals or gods or anyone
lost in labyrinths of mind and country
just a constellation —
a crown of stars drifting along a
spiral arm, content
with its direction