Category Archives: Writing

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless  With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run From “To Autumn,” – John Keats More on Keats another time… Word Raccoon has seen students waiting at the bus stop the past few days. SheContinue reading “Mellow Fruitfulness, Messy Process”

Psst…this is not a poem. This is a mosaic of thoughts designed to make me feel as if I’ve earned creative writing points today, good for cash and prizes.  The poems I attempted are mostly fragments. A couplet struts around in its ruffled underwear, convinced it’s a full poem. It won’t let me wash itsContinue reading “The Soft Apocalypse of a Writing Day”

“One breath taken completely; one poem, fully written, fully read – in such a moment, anything can happen.”― Jane Hirshfield, Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry I sorted the magazine basket over the weekend. There’s that glamorous “writer’s life.”  Who even has a magazine basket anymore? Apparently I do, and it’s been slowly overfilling itself, whispering,Continue reading “Sorting More Than a Magazine Basket”

A breeze brought me the most gawky, adorably dorky poem. It landed in my lap all crooked and earnest, and I’ve been smiling ever since I wrote it down. I want to sit beside it on a pillow and pluck at its sleeve as it reads so I can watch it crane its neck whenContinue reading “Pillows, Poems, and Plans “

Now Playing: “In the Ghetto,” Elvis Presley  Word Raccoon thinks she’s my personal trainer now. Spoiler: she tried to bribe me with a bagel I couldn’t even dress with butter or cream cheese. This is how low we’ve sunk, friends. On Friday, I floated across a parking lot. I was back at the gym: recumbentContinue reading “And I Always Will: To a Siren “

Now Playing (with cheesecake crumbs on the buttons): “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen “Did you know he was a Jersey boy, William Carlos Williams?” That was Word Raccoon’s opener yesterday. She strutted into my brain like she owned the place (which, let’s be honest, she kinda does). I hadn’t known it. But apparently WRContinue reading “So Much Depends…on a Feral Raccoon”

Now Playing: “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”  Pat Benatar Word Raccoon nearly had a showdown at the café yesterday morning. By some miracle (or questionable decision-making), WR was at her post on the café porch before 8 a.m., sprawling across the mosaic-tiled table nearest the door. Prime spot for maximum nosiness. Breakfast half-eaten, poetryContinue reading “This Seat Is Taken (By My Bag)”

Now Playing: Been Caught Stealing – Jane’s Addiction Grocery pickup is a marvel for most items. Cereal? Perfect. Pasta sauce? No problem. Cleaning supplies? Absolutely. But produce? Every time I hand it over to pickup, I regret it. Not because the pickers are bad people, they’re just moving too fast to have standards. And IContinue reading “Produce Pickup? Swipe Left.”

Now Playing: “Do I Do,” Stevie Wonder Revised and sent off the poetry collection to a publisher this week. Cue the confetti! Fingers crossed… While there are still a couple of poems that won’t behave in the book, I was pleased with how others shaped up.  One of the poems, “Holy Floaties,” (shortened title), cameContinue reading “Word Raccoon vs. the Great Coke Zero Conspiracy”