My Grandma Melba and I talked today, she’s helping my brother pay for nursing school, my parents pay their expenses while they start the new magazine, and helping to supplement my income while I enter graduate school and part-time work. She talks about how hopeful she is about the magazine, how well me and my … More Receiving

In case any one wants to know about internet in Berkeley, I have no idea

My house serves free coffee and tea, does not take cash or credit card, or check. But the internet is completely unreliable. Nomad cafe, takes credit cards, and they have internet, but they do not provide outlets. There is no electrical power for your computer there, but they’re “working on it.” Jumpin’ Java has Internet … More In case any one wants to know about internet in Berkeley, I have no idea

I love the humanness of putting clothes away, picking a shirt up, smelling the arm pit, crinkling your nose and throwing it in the hamper and then laughing… making piles to make things seem “neat” I have pieces of rice cakes in my hair, I imagine having long hair is something like having a beard… … More

The beauty that is

a collection of moments, standing amidst an undulating crowd, your body compelled to move by sound and the feeling of music vibrating through the air and the floor. A single violinist, with the look of a street performer, stood under a spotlight. A cloud of steam and smoke curling into each other rose slowly above … More The beauty that is

“Look into their eyes and you’ll see that no one should have to die of hunger.” I heard this while listening to a program on public radio the other night. The author of “Enough” was talking about world hunger. I was driving home from the grocery store, with a few items of food sitting on … More

morning poems

Wake up wake up wake up my mother used to say in the morning, But now this means something different Whatever is normal for you Break it open With ravenous glee Like a child And listen with ecstasy to the sound of shattering glass spreading Inward Suddenly I thought of you And we were leaves … More morning poems