River Roads

Here’s the strange thing about me: I can completely forget I’m a musician until I arrive at the gig. It’s as though that part of me is a set of clothes for another season, kept in a moth-proof box in the attic, out of mind until the weather changes.

Barbie, Barbi and Me

…what woman born in the ‘60s could possibly resist a Gerwig/Baumbach treatment of that iconic, maddening, perfect representation of our twisted ideas of what girls were supposed to aspire to be?

Among Other News, Bob on the Ceiling Released From Its Analog Prison 

I hadn’t played guitar in almost a month. I don’t need it in the studio these days because all we’ve been doing is adding background vocals. My daughter’s been playing…

Cat Person

It’s not so much that I’m not a cat personMore like cats are not Nerissa people.  All I wanted when I was fiveWas a pink-nosed kitten,Round blue eyes, milky breath,Needly…

The Co-Ordinates of One’s Address Depend on Which Alphabet One Uses

Given that Italian has a consonant/vowel ratio Of nearly four to one, it’s clear whyMost singers prefer Verde to Schubert.Which would you rather sing, O mia babbino caroOr Mein Sohn, was birgst du…

Kaleidoscope

Sir David Brewster invented it by accidentAn instrument with mirrors at polar endsAngling the glass against the lightKalos, beautifulEodos, shapeScopeo, to look at The Romans cancelled the Greeks’ KappaReplaced it…

Trash Day, Post-Halloween

This image has nothing to do with my post, but the cat insisted I needed to make it the featured image, and it’s a lot bigger than I am. If this is your cat, and you are mad at me for taking its picture, I will come to your house with cookies as an apology.

Poems as Secular Prayers

I always begin a writing session by reading a poem aloud. Like a prayer, a poem can connect me to myself, and to something deeper than myself, with spirit-imbued words….

Fall Equinox, COVID, and My Broken Suitcase

In which I discuss my big feelings.