The fire in your eyes
and the sweetness of your lips—
How can I say no?


I lose things. Often.
Later, find them in the oddest and most illogical of places. For example, just this morning there was my bra, in all its padded glory, shoved into my purse. Apparently, I’d put it there last night, but why? I would kill to learn the thought process behind that move. No one will ever know. I don’t even remember taking the silly thing off! No, I wasn’t drunk or even happily buzzed. All my clothes ended up at their proper destinations with the exception of one errant bra.
A few weeks ago, I found my car keys on top of one of the litter boxes in the cat’s room. No clue.
Then there was the time the metal tape measure ended up in the oven. Again, no idea how, why or when. I’m just glad I found it before turning the oven on. The odor of white-hot metal and melting numbers can’t be pleasant.
The worst is when I lose my glasses. The world goes fuzzy-gray without them. Yet, at least four times a week, I am on a blind-hunt for them.
Does anyone else out there have this problem, or know someone who does? I wonder if there is a name for it.


An attempt at Alan Ginsberg’s “American Sentence.”
Falling in love is easy; climbing out of it is the hard part.


Shooting star wishes
Daisy petals & wishbones —
Somethin’s gotta give.
O, the conundrum!
The heart wants what the heart wants:
What it cannot have.
