The Middle of Jerseyville

chill air, cigarettes
his grey toque and toothy grin
he’s a free bird now
and I am flying so high
knowing that he’ll soon be mine

Well, its not what you would you would call funny necessarily but its kind of funny to me to look back on how things were in high school; how angsty and sexually frustrate we were! Haha! Anyway, I think its a quirky little piece with a lot of personal nostalgia.


Outta Idaho

Soggy cigarettes in my back pocket,
standing in rain-soaked socks

as a car pulls up with a man in a hat.
“Where ‘ya headed?” and I reply

“Anywhere. Gotta get outta Idaho.”
There’s nothing here but sheep

and fields and fields and
we’ve eaten nothing but potatoes

for six days straight. “Maybe the coast,”
I say and climb in. “Heard its nice there.”


At times she is a coy coquette:
sweet, reserved, laced-up
like a corset, waiting to be wooed.
She flirts with brevity,
chooses her words carefully,
smiles shyly.

At times she is a wild woman:
raw, aroused, untamed
like a stallion, longing to be free.
She is both lure and love,
impassioned sonnets from her tongue,
forever young.

I really ran with this prompt and was happy with how it turned out. Could still use some tweaking but I’ll let it rest a while. Basically, the prompt entailed personifying one’s own personal poetry. In my case, it is two women. Or rather one double-life leading woman!


I am blooming
like a phalaenopsis orchid
with a womb of fleshy petals
soft and pink with life.

And the center
with its perfect symmetry:
intricate, delicate
beautiful, whole.

A Letter

A letter:
bombs blast
like broken moons overhead
and the stench of the dead
and a mouthful of mud
face down.

A letter:
sitting on the front porch
when they arrive,
that fucking flag
like a body bag.

For my third NaPoWriMo prompt I chose to address an irrational, yet terrible and persistent, fear of my boyfriend being conscripted to fight in some war. Its a recurring nightmare that often stays with me throughout the days. Though I’m happy with what I have come up with I feel it has a little more potential in it still. Its definitely something I’ll continue to work with. With that said, please feel free to criticize at will!


In the morning he is
gruffly spoken and roused,
unshaven and naked
between the sheets.

He grabs me, gruff,
pulled into his scent
stale, musty, sandpaper.

I love him like this
untouched by the day.

Well, I didn’t have much luck with the prompt, that’s for sure. I attempted the Radisson Witch Project and the Right Wing Policy and the Right to Water Program but nothing came about so I’ve posted something else I wrote today that I am pretty fond of. Better luck tomorrow! That’s what this is all about, right?

Yay NaPoWriMo!

Today is the first day of National Poetry Writing Month, also known as NaPoWriMo! I am extremely excited to be participating in this even as it is my first time! I can’t wait to see what comes from it. If you are unfamiliar with NaPoWriMo, the challenge is essentially to write at least one poem every day for the month of April. So, please, show support :) Also, do not hesitate to critique and criticize. I am doing this in order to grow as a writer and criticism is a vital part of creative growth.

For my first NaPoWriMo poem, I was instructed to incorporate the names of the first five songs to appear on my iTunes shuffle mode. Big thanks to Read Write Poem for Donna Vorreyer such a great prompt. The songs I wound up with are as follows: Crazy Crazy Crazy by Michael Franti, When the Night Feels my Song by Bedouin Soundclash, Spanish Castle Magic by Jimi Hendrix, In a Little While by Hot Action Cop and Better Days by OPM. Enjoy!


He says I’m crazy, crazy, crazy
and its all in the eyes the way they
burn like Tinakula and beg
like Luamerava.

When the night feels my song
we dance barefoot, hot coals,
smoke rising high in a
red, red sky.

All I want is a little Spanish castle magic,
a little apasionado to really feel
alive and maybe, in a little while,
the hunger will be better.

Daze are long and hot
he says my skin sticks like honey;
he says its all in the eyes
the way they burn, burn, burn.