Does anyone ever realize life while they live it…every, every minute?
                                                                                    -Thornton Wilder, Our Town
Old bricks stacked
one upon another
floorboards carefully aligned
an accumulation of substance
to root us here
beneath ethereal light

we are shaman, all of us
the rising curtain
rains down a cacophony 
of sound
as our temporary selves,
mathematical fractals of human 
possibility,
poof into floating rainbow bubbles
like proof of divine multiplicity

let’s linger a moment longer
as brick layer
or carpenter
having whirled from our hands
the prismatic story
of now


This poem was part of the Artists Muse 2015:  Wisconsin Artists-Wisconsin Poets project

Cosmic Dance of Shiva


Smart phone, notebook, laptop
settle us into our seats

forget about the red shift
astronomers and poets captivated
by a universe flung wide

instead we lie bound
by the spectroscopic 
blue spell
noose of fiber optic cable 
ubiquitous charging cord

we listen 
to the whispered vespers 
of pseudo-scientists
filaments of symbols and syllables
as if King David’s seal
cerebral traces track the dopamine stain 

Wake up!! 
O, to enlighten ourselves from within
call forth the destroyer
with his spiraled revolution 
of glittering galactic arms

forge male to female
distinct yet singular

ahh, to splinter the flat, flat screen
from whose loins spring 
the cold pixelated fire
we’ll saturate our skins in the flicker 
of  its dying cerulean light

lets pop an electric boogaloo 
and roar
wrest the sly demon 
from our lives
hurl him to a floor littered 
with fallen empty coffee cups 
and whirl 
to a deadly percussion
of feet


 -first published in The Camel Saloon as part of a feature on women writers in recognition of International Women’s Day 2015.