by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
I am ashamed of these riches, this shame is what has helped me hide; there is an embarrassment of plenitude, this rich unfurling passion that is not lust but its opposite, a honey flowering of generosity, a lush spilling of diamonds. It is the shame of the...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
Trust means I am falling and I really really hope there is a net, or several someones with a blanket, or warm water. It means I am trying to relax into the blurred view on the way down, trying to let the wind rush through my willing ears and still hear my own music...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
I am a poet-janitor, not the philosopher-king of old but one who cleans up the mess, figurative and literal. Oh, I used to say “innkeeper” as a mask of propriety or even “consultant” for other kinds of mopping up but the ego loves these...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
All these women who have found their own voices; some in mini-skirts or muscle shirts with bold tattoos, the asperity of age, the wondering silken glow of teenage seekers, the dreadlocked permaculture amazons hoping for longevity, the mothers in crumb-filled vans and...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
How much more naked can I stand when the clothes are long gone and the skin feels transparent and all these organs do their work without my help? Why do I feel that the stripping has barely begun, that new places of exposure are waiting, that while there is...
