My So-Called Brunch ( Read more... )

today was better. i started online applications (although i like the paper so much better, the feel of the future tagible, possibilities written in my own handwriting). i wrote my e-mail to my poetmentor Denise Duhamel asking (really: begging, with some social etiquette/whitegirl pomp & circumstance thrown in for good measure). i am biting my ( Read more... )

only 'cause i care what miss shante thinks about me will i do THIS ( Read more... )

i have that same weight, heavy, in my stomach ( Read more... )

it strikes me as ironic that, despite the writer in me, i long to hear the words, not to read them. i'm an audio kinda girl ( Read more... )

last night at 8:13 pm I was happy. just that--happy.

maybe i will forever be the owner of a softer heart, an easier tear.

no matter what pills i swallow, what numb coats my tongue, what fear pulls me to stasis, no matter.

when that piano chord hit air, her fingers tracing my inner arm like only a lover can, i couldn't help but bring on the

traffic lights are negotiable.

adrienne reads 10/4/04 ( Read more... )

cleaning out my wallet, receipts spread out over my desk like a patchwork picnic blanket--crumpled white, yellow carbon copies, sloppy scrawled signatures stacked in bundles. ticket stubs & folded fortunes ( Read more... )

i have a job. i have my own desk my own phone with my own extension 21 with my own key to my own locked desk drawers with my own e-mail account my own 3 weeks paid vacation floating holiday personal sick days health insurance $10 copay with my own window that looks out onto a primary-colored plastic-coated swingset&slide backyard. i have a real ( Read more... )