Tag: Mothers

Posted on

June Excitement

Hi sweeties! I’ve been writing my butt off for Substack, and I’ve written some pieces I’d love you to see.

Here’s one called Sexy, which is about why, yeah, I probably feel sexier at 59 than I have ever felt before. Hint: I feel completely able to say no and fuck you.

Here’s one called My Two Mothers, about bringing together the mother who never nurtured me with the mother who taught me and cultivated in me some of the things in life I love the most. (They were the same person.)

And here is one called Cooking Up Rebellion, about how cooking, like writing, depends on a universe of others (including our hominid ancestors.)

I hope you enjoy. And if you’ve got something to say, leave a comment! 🙂

  • The very first Beacon Literary Festival will be June 17-18 at the Howland Cultural Center in Beacon, NY.   I am excited to be on the first panel of the day on Saturday, June 17, talking about how to make nonfiction into art. 477 Main Street, 11:15 AM -12:15 PM.
  • New York City friends, come see me read at East Midtown Pride on Tuesday, June 27, a collaboration between the East Midtown Partnership and the Publishing Triangle! I’ll be reading with Lauren Melissa Ellzey, Anastacia-Renée, James Villanueva, and Fay Jacobs. 7 PM, at the SUNY Global Center, 116 E. 55th St, NYC. More information here.
Posted on

Divine Mother/Siren Song

The divine mother finally
comes to me
finally speaks

[it has taken me 56 years
to rip the wax out of my ears

I stuffed them with so long ago
I was terrified of hearing her lush
candy tones]:

I want to rub your shoulders
Oh lay down lay your head down on my breast
I want to feed you
I have the food right here
a tunafish sandwich and
a meatball one

and I have roses for you so you will always know
how wonderful you are

my delight, my little cookie
my bright animal
my brave girl
full of fire

and I will spread around you all that you might ever have needed
all you might ever love

Darling

[the smell of perfume around her. Silk scarf
the color of saffron, I can almost smell the spice
coming from her hands and her words
as she speaks
she is intoxicating]
I will never leave you

[please.
I cannot take
your betrayal.]

The mother’s nipple is bright red and her breasts are apple blossoms. The nipple in my mouth is sucky sucky delight I do not need anything more.

This is from my new work in progress, a memoir that is mostly in prose. The book is tentatively titled Jailbreak. You can find additional excerpts here, here, and here.