the mEp for February 2016

                    March on....

February 22

we don't really know what We day is

my aching menopausal joints and i

run past the squeaking pigs

as she texts me for a Triangl

no not a shape a bikini shape

while sitting in a theatre

and i'm last to know

about bathing suits

February 21
little snow falling

could she ever know her misery is caused
by strict adherence
to the same things which
she believes free her?

February 17
mid-day sick head

dear phyllis,
those words you didn't have the guts to say to me
still run thru my head, twenty eight
years now, you have been dead.

and at fifty, i still wonder, what are emotional needs
and who could really fulfill them
other than me.

the book being read by a brown woman
which runs through chapter but chapter after chapter
trying to say what i have known my whole life

February 15
the things people don't say
7:44 am

i'm hanging on to you
with both hands
as time flies 

sniffling and chewing on bent knees
i peer through single paned windows
past the aloe plant
at frozen cars creeping along the park
what motivates such movement on a day with no school

i stealthily sneak past squeaking pigs
for a kleenex to breathe;
i don't ask for much in life
but an hour of silence while well slept
to release my thoughts in single file
is one

i want to tell you the miracle of becoming one of 'them'
without bragging -
i want to tell you about love
without sounding like i know it all
i want to tell you all the things i can't say
without telling you anything at all

and so here i am
on monday.

doing it all again on tuesday
would be nice.


February 5th

Babylon plays from the small clock radio with flashing time as Poots prepares for the final investigation. lots of turning in the night led to a very unslept poot but a new life force is driving this bus

tunisia calls;
ENTJ awakes;
confidence resumes;
ten points on my loose leaf can't be summarized
or can they.

I am E: Hear me Roar.
I am T: Hear me think.
I am N: Hear me talk.
I am J: Hear me organize.