25 August 2010


some stuff i wrote this morning on the train:

Bad Luck
it's that flower you received on the best day you ever had.

you pressed it into a book to try and savor the memory but
it sweetened and became rotten.

it's the way you lay on your stomach in the grass, playing
with little dandelions and making wishes on seeds, until
a colony of ants started crawling along your spine.

it's the folded-down corners and creased spine of a book
you've read so many times, but no matter how often 
you peruse it's pages, the fairytale never comes true.

fuck it. luck is just another word for choices and consequences, 
for reasons and regrets, and hey kid,you've got to take risks
sometimes, otherwise how can you really say you're alive?

Promise To a Lost Cause

early morning, rattling train
another gray and rainy day
stuck in a castle tower and
unable to say what i want to say

all i've got is this labored breath
and this terrifying intensity
if you need more than honest feeling
i'm not sure what it could be

can't bring the drawbridge down
can't turn ocean into ground

all i can really offer is: 
if you want me, i'll stick around.

15 August 2010

The Barbies Are Back!

One of my close friends (let's call her Curls) and I 
made a movie with Barbies and string five years ago. Yesterday at a sleepover, we lugged down all of my old dolls from my attic and decided we were going to make a sequel to our first movie. All I want to say is, it was hilarious, and a lot of fun, and I'm really glad that Curls and I will never forget how to just be kids and laugh at ourselves. I hope you always remember, too.

(Me and Curls)


13 August 2010


Firstly, I want to mention that I have been published in the online version of The Prose Poem Project (page 75, but I'm there, please check it out) and will be in the print version when it comes out later in the Fall! So exciting, my first shot at publication of any of my poems... well, my first successful shot, haha.
Secondly, something new:

Don't let it fool you, the tide is tease
I want to stand exactly at the spot

where the sea meets the shore
but every time I think I'm there
it's just a little farther away.

Thirdly, another new one:

when i sat on a secluded beach and
watched city island from afar

the quiet is broken only by a gull's shriek
and the sand is littered with little shells,
speckled pebbles, and a plastic spoon.
and a sailboat's mast toppled to the ground
and mossing over. everything finds its way
back to nature sometime. the waves
wash against the shore like tiny mouths,
aching with hunger, always wanting
just a little more. the ocean salt
stings the throat. the air reeks with the sour
fishy stench of a beach left unkempt.
an old man reels in his catch and says
he likes my sneakers because he had
the same ones when he was seventeen
and he didn't know they still made them.
from here, city island looks like i could hold it
in my palm. maybe i won't even cross
the bridge and enter. i'll just keep resting
on this uneven rock and leave the land
lying in the distance like a postcard scene,
inviting and perfect and untouchable.
that's how i should have left you, too.

04 August 2010

Remembering the Joys of Rollerblading

It's been a long time since I felt the bumps in the pavement under my feet as I sailed down the hilly, badly cracked bike path near my house. Last summer I got so caught up with having a boyfriend who didn't really like to be outside in the heat that I forgot about doing the outdoorsy things that make me happy, like rollarblading (aka inline skating). 

I bladed four miles today; and was it a workout! It was harder than I remembered, but I also pushed myself further than I normally used to. I like to feel things and do things to their extremes, so I bladed until I was panting and my water bottle was empty. 

I'm finally pulling back all of the loose strands in my life. I'm working on a new novel, which is about halfway through, and I'm going to try to write some more poetry soon. I'm applying for jobs and I'm reading voraciously. And now I'm blading again. I vow not to forget about it, for as long as the weather's warm enough to blade.

... I don't think my aching thighs would let me forget it now, even if I wanted to. Ow.