April 22, 2025

Used clothes discarded in the Atacama Desert, in Alto Hospicio, Iquique, Chile. [Martin Bernetti/AFP]

Fast Fashion

Trends tend to destroy this earth but also confidence and savings.

Created for the average woman when there’s no such thing, but still we try to squeeze into the corporate vision of what’s woman.

No extra room for something a little different in these skinny jeans.

You’re not cool if you’re concerned about global warming.

A colorful oasis in a Chilean desert is not green palm trees and turquoise water.

It is a rainbow of synthetic fibers cast away after the first wash.

A clothing mountain rises from the sand, as large as any hiked in the newest trekking pant.

Faux fur, suit coats, “distressed” denim still with tags, bleach in the sun.

There is no going back to the earth when you were made in a lab, but she does go back to the club in her latest purchase.

A raiment ruination.


In honor of my dad, who taught me the word raiment by telling me to go look it up in the dictionary when he used it in a holiday dinner table toast.

January 19, 2025

Girl, I Hate Spilled Beer Too

But, I like beer in a pint glass, shared with friends I have made

since my divorce, that wedding in my twenties, lasted a dozen years

then dissolved like so many unburdened thoughts. 

This life, now, is more full, more rewarding and more interesting and so am I

living for the days my dad reaches out asking me if he can help me with a project, it is his love language

my friends still popping by, though rarely at 2am and usually at a more reasonable early evening,

and over unspilled beers we still talk about the good years ahead of us – 

more work-life balance, more time with friends, more explorations outside our comfort zones

more yelling I love you loudly across a space just because you’re my friend

and after talking with those people, those loves of my life,

it is clear some people will understand taxes at 25

and some will live to be 100 and never understand them and that’s what good friends,

or a good accountant are there for

and that self-hatred and certainty of uselessness is something we all feel 

sometimes, it goes away, mostly, but through a process that comes from within not from exchanging vows, 

and at 48 I can tell you 

You matter

and I can finally tell myself that too

When I am alone

My beautiful face 

toward the sun. 


(A response poem to Megan William’s Upon Turning 25, A Small Nervous Breakdown; inspired by Erica-Lynn Gambino’s response Poem This is Just to Say to William Carlos Williams’ This is Just to Say)

Written as an assignment for the Introductory Poetry course.

January 26, 2025

A Day at the Ski Resort

It’s all downhill from here they say meaning it is never going to be better than it is right now, but that is not the case here, today you get to go downhill and then you get to go back to the top and do it again; the downhill is the fun part! The best part! The part we have been practicing and training and trying for since we started, whether that was 2 hours ago or 2 lifetimes ago.

We are, here, now, living for the downhill. That may change when we get in the cars that brought us to this winter wonderland, covered with more snow than nature provides, and motor back to our jobs and school and loves and lives, where it may really be all downhill from here.

But in this spot, filled with its cries of fear and joy muffled by buffs and backed by a soundtrack of music bumping from the lift shacks, it is all about the downhill. Speeding down the manufactured snow, overnight groomed to a precise corduroy greeting early morning riders then flattened to a smooth sheen by wax and dusk.  

The smell of burgers on the grill and waffles on the iron envelop the rainbow of snowpants and jackets, traffic cones and the navy blue and high viz orange fences ensuring we are only going downhill where we are supposed to and not heading downhill where it may be a problem, for us or for them. Problematic downhills are for other places. Not here.

Here we are head-to-toe advertisements for the Northface, the resort, Burton, Solomon, K2, Spyder and the others, a rainbow billboard made up of thousands of people rather than pixels, carves instead of corners. Money changing hands in every building and on every surface; snow, wood floor, gravel lot, as the lift gears grind and, somewhere else, it is all downhill from here.   


Inspired by the poetry class I am taking in which we were assigned to create a walking around poem where we describe our settings after reading Song of Myself by Walt Whitman and Allen Ginsberg’s Howl and Footnote to Howl

April 4, 2024

In Praise of Progressives


They’re a milestone of maturity

Like going from middle school to high school/ Like voting for the first time/Like paying my own car insurance/Like buying my own pet food/Like making my own doctors appointments/Like dancing in bra and panties around my own apartment/Like saying when I was a kid/Like groaning getting up from the couch/Like realizing wrinkles are a sign of a long life well lived/Like considering gray hair an accessory/Like purging what doesn’t add value

They help me see both up close and far away in just one pair to misplace

Sometimes I wish they could help me see what’s coming

Right now I’m happy

Because this morning they ensured I put ground ginger

Instead of onion powder in my oatmeal.