Daily Archives: January 17, 2011

Good Morning San Francisco

Bitter espresso Warm sun Soothing clear water in a tall clean glass Jasmine making its way up lattice this side of the café patio Good music, something Latina, something with a strong beat People ever so interesting to look at … Continue reading

Posted in California, Memoir, Poetic Fragments, Poetry, San Francisco | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

If I had a Nickel

If I had a Nickel For ever time you threatened suicide every time we saw your face puffy your thin white lips locked together your head in your hands. You yelling voice shill, the sound of boiling crabs. If I … Continue reading

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More por favor!

The sound of rolling tongues, behind heavy full lips are no longer foreign to me. The words come easily from friends sitting around my kitchen table with clear dark brown and caramel eyes short stylish haircuts and delicate perfume pepino … Continue reading

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Aloneness is Delicious

I enjoy my aloneness now in the middle of crowds or in a living room alone with my cat and some warm light and soft clothes. I enjoy my aloneness because my life has so little of it. Like a … Continue reading

Posted in Feminism, Poetic Fragments, Poetry | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Today

I thought I heard my father’s voice. It caught the air in my throat and turned solid, an unnamed ball there formed. I had to release the thing: before I choked. It was not my dad, and I don’t even … Continue reading

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A San Francisco We

We walk, escape our four walls, paid for with our time-to-have. We close our faces to live. Open them to push the loneliness out.  Drink our coffee in crowded cafés. We are the energy we seek, the Buzz. We laugh- … Continue reading

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Music in Fourteen Lines

Ebbing cultural constructions A ball of red clay turning in circles Valerie sitting down at the piano, inside me something focuses Outside in the warmth, in the dark lit stage music spills out over me You are ever so tangible … Continue reading

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Talk to me about my mouth

I slid up his body for a kiss. He watched my lips, I knew this because they began to itch. “Talk to me about my mouth” His words came abruptly with out warning Your mouth? Your lips are full No … Continue reading

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A Story of Female Agency: The Revolt of “Mother”

Mary Ellen Wilkin Freeman’s short story The Revolt of “Mother” is a story of female agency.  It is a story that sheds a sympathetic light on a woman’s struggles.  Unlike most stories written before the Women’s Suffrage movement about woman’s … Continue reading

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