Monthly Archives: January 2013

tremendous SPACE



Unemployed college graduate. Your boyfriend who has been supporting you has broken up with you. Panic washes over you when you realize that you are down to your last dollar. The humiliation you feel at being 27 and having to ask your parents yet again to borrow money. They are clearly disinterested and displeased, but they acquiesce because they sure as hell can’t let you starve, though they consider it for just a moment. You need the lesson. Then they snap out of it, realizing how hard-headed you are. This is the LAST TIME, they say to you. Yeah, yeah, I know, you say, all too familiar with the shame of disappointing your parents, though not taking their warning as seriously as you should be.

So, here you are. You are at ground level, but you get a fresh start to working your way back up. What are you gonna do?

You need money. Your parents only give you enough to get you by with the barest necessities for a short while. Your options for work are slim. You’ve never held a professional job in your life, and your jobs working retail and food industry ended sourly. You have no positive references. People don’t like you because you are hard to get along with. You argue with everything they say, for the sport of it. People do not like this, you have learned.

It’s looking dim on the horizon. You panic briefly, but you’ve become good at finding distractions in times of distress. You knit a headband. And then another. And then another. When you’ve tired of that, you move on to sweeping the house. You sweep meticulously, spending hours at it. Before you know it, you’ve spent the entire day sweeping and cleaning. At the end of the day, you are no closer to figuring out how you are going to get yourself out of this jam.

You used to think you were creative, but you can’t come up with any ideas. Out of laziness? Out of depression? You’re not sure. All that you can produce is nothing. The space in your head is tremendous.




I am air


Living in a dream

“Wake up!” voices echo

the words appear to me in floating text

to accompany the sound of the utterance

So many ways to alarm a person out of her stupor

Still she lingers in it

Refuses to let the synapse fire

The one that alerts her to rise from her slumber

To wake from the dream

Experience the flesh and blood of it all



Bathe in the warmth of the blood circulating through her veins


All the little passageways of her body that allow life to flow

Why choose figmentation when one can have such warmth?

Let the heat from within emanate outward

Warming others in her wake

An act of selflessness.