I have to tell you

I am unexpectedly thrown off at the prospect of being in a city. (Don't worry, I am preparing with delight - listening to music that reminds me how very much I love the city, desire it.) It has to do with more than all the concrete and less space, it is the time of the year. Right now I can feel (yes, feel) the sun rising over the edge of the river valley. These are days when a mist rises off the river each morning. There are subtle and sensuous changes in the quality of the crisp air as the minutes pass and the sky brightens. It reaches such a climax. The place of the sun in the sky touches my skin and mind in such an amazing way. Think I'll go lie in a patch of it.

having warm
pulsing
gotta pause and
hold onto the wall
until they pass
smiling
thoughts

all tingly, you say?

a little pressure with the thighs...

I don't know what time has done to me
except turn me into some sort of hedonistic mennonite
with strange boots

last summer afternoon

sign of a good or a bad day?

After a very long three days I went to the store and bought two things: a bottle of liquor and two C batteries.

nap in the sun

late summer sunrise

I don't know how I let him slip through my fingers.

I told a creepy gold chain wearing post-divorce-angst poetry writing guy at the workshop that I decided not to date until after menopause (he had been telling us that he dates menopausal women). He reached over patted my arm and said that was very thoughtful of me.

he did say

he would kiss me on the jaw
while I was sleeping
and I dreamt about him

the young furnace dude (that I've known for several years)

says he has never seen me smile before
says I've thinned out
asks if I'm on the prowl

My tongue hurts.

My tongue is a mess.
In a fit of nostalgia I bought a bag of atomic fireballs.
Spent the afternoon eating them - my tongue on fire.

cricket on my wall

I am trying.

“Be brave.”
she tells me