Poetry Blogs (2012, babies)

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On Bodily Autonomy and Geriatric Femininity

They never ask, the old ladies.
They just hug, pinch, kiss and
Cuddle at will. Babies are theirs,
You know, and they do love them
So much. I guess it isn’t their fault,
No one ever told them they aren’t
Free to touch at will. I once told
A woman to get her hands out of
My hair, and she said no man
Had ever asked her to stop
Touching him before. As an old
Lady, I’m sure she became anothe...

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babiesbodily autonomyconsentfemininityfeminismtouching

The Almost Child

I remember exactly the spot

the place I sat

when she told me

I remember the cooling coffee


when I was told

I remember the uncertainty

in her voice

when she told me


I remember how I smiled

the joy I felt

when I first knew

my almost son

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Cultivating Life

entry picture

A traffic jam that spans an entire epoch

Is followed by daily punishments of

Dreary Sisyphean meanderings,

Followed by even more traffic

In sweltering heat and sticky humidity.


With all energy drained from

Lungs, limbs, and mind,

He shuffles into his house

Seeking only relief and brief reprieve.


As he unbuttons his soaked shirt,

“Do me,” assaults his ears


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Nuclear Cradle Song

entry picture

Nuclear Cradle Song


Bye, baby, bye

Cry, baby, cry

You cry so do I.

My tears have all run dry.

So cry, baby, cry


Cry, baby, cry

Bye, baby, bye

No use in asking why

Our dreams fell from the sky.

So cry, baby, cry, baby, cry.


Bye, baby, bye

Cry, baby, cry

No one to hear you cry.

No one to hear us try.

Oh, cry, baby, cry,...

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