[Citations in Italics: Plays of T. S. Eliot. Boston: Faber, 1969] I grow old … I grow old … It seemed so important to grow up, to be a lady; make my own rules. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do…

Deciding which day will be the tricky part. Friday’s no good because you’d be opening up a can of worms you’d never be able to close. Sunday is a no-go because it already has an abysmal reputation. Wednesday is a terrible choice because it offers…

Prufrock’s footnotes 1] The epigraph is from Dante’s Divine Comedy (Inferno, XXVII, 61-66). Count Someone-Long-long-Dead says something wise or witty about lying & Hell in Italian (I’m not really sure as I don’t speak Italian). 3] etherized = anesthetized = how readers feel by about…

losing track of time the hours are slipping and so am I cloudy eyes fuzzy brain 4:55am searching for that perfect combination of words to arrange for you but right now I wipe the sleep tired eyes Ready to keep going  

your mind can soar across the millennia rest in quiet cozy corners venture to heaven fall back to Terra firma or fly among the stars and unveil worlds not yet conceived   if she does not judge too harshly let doubts stop flights of fantasy…

Cataclysmic cloud of color, of racing people rushing through the pulse of a passing moment. She escapes them all by claiming stillness at the center for herself. The faces fade, features blurred to distorted colors, neon, pastel. The turn of their bodies become elongated brushstrokes,…

Welcome you are to my life and my home. find some comfort in my company find our fun and misadventure maybe sail across the sea of ecstasy Forsake the norms of genteel reproach and gather here on my mushrooms head of power and persuasion and…

In my youth, there was sometimes beauty, a grace of form unmarred by lines, skin tight to the flesh and muscle well defined, hair curling and furled down to a waist a mere eighteen inches, spanned easily by the hands of the man who became…

“You rest; I’ll pray,” A friend told me the other day. Four simple words, And I’m reduced to tears.   Because, for so long I thought I must be strong And stay awake And pray for God to hear.   The cries of so much…

Acknowledging  The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot   Read this in the dawning When the flush of growth sings green; When hope rises up like sap, and Bent age is not yet a fiend. There will be time, they said, though,…