Spinning an alternate reality out of my gut one slow silk stitch at a time. What else is there to do?
Late Lunch at Bell Street Burritos
You can’t have someone else’s fortune you don’t even want. Thick eyelashes, stringy-haired baby, husband in corduroys…
I drive to work
Can I even do this,
The air is a thick wet blanket,Murmuring the Thursday-ness of everything.Eyeballs stinging, feet stinking,I see the year…
I.
There are instants when the world shifts sideways,