Category: Love

Creating a Movement on Flag Day

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Signs from the 7×7 stand-in along El Camino from Palo Alto to Sunnyvale: “IKEA has better cabinets,” “No Kings, More Queens,” “…and to the republic for which it stands…,” “We can all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately- Ben Franklin.”

A beat up World War II jeep sporting a sign: “Fighting facism since 1943.” Honks and thumbs up galore from cars decked out with flags and signs declaring love and approval for the exuberant display of democracy filling the streets. This is what democracy looks like. To would be dictators and syncophants: the people have found a voice.

Making Up Stuff

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There are house elves in my basement. My therapist says this is a delusion. But, she’s not here at night when they clatter around in the kitchen making noise. My partner rolls her eyes. 

What makes them think the elves are not real? This is totally likely, aside from the fact that we have no basement and no decent place for an elf to set up housekeeping or raise a family. I ask you, how can dishes get done and meals cooked while I stay in bed dreaming? My therapist thinks it’s my partner and my partner agrees. They’re deluded. 

Ode to Kohnan

Photo by Monica McHenney
His eyes were open and stayed that way
Aware and dignified, right up to the end.
A mensch, reserved, not prone to delay, 
Loyal to a fault, on that you can depend.

Saucy he was in the final hours,
Demanded kibble, a last meal at midnight.
Poured out love, licks, and reassurance.

Despite his weak body, his power
Did prolong the end, enough so that we might
Say woof, shed our tears, take one last dance.

He knew it was the end. We, quite sure, thought that he would rally.
He lay quiet, dignified, a friend and most trusted ally.



Method Writing

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Though she covered politics at the Tribune, Jenny wrote nothing but romance.  Her approach came from a place of genuine empathy, perhaps because she was having an affair with the mayor of Topeka at the time. 

The mayor’s husband played along. He’d often wondered what was missing from his wife’s campaigns. Turned out Jenny was the secret sauce. Once she started following a candidate, they ended up in bed. This gave Jenny’s reporting authenticity and, being so close, she could  zero in on the candidate’s humanity.  It’s what the public wanted and Jenny’s motto was, “The  reader is always right.”

Can Dreams Be True?

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The dog died under a fallen fence in a thunder storm. Marley suspected that Ginger hadn’t been ready to go. Sure enough, they met up in Marley’s dreams. Often, Ginger had advice. It was like old times, minus the vet bills, though it was odd to hear Ginger talking. 

Their discussions got uncomfortable when Marley started dating a colleague. Ginger had strong opinions about clandestine office romances. 

Marley reminded Ginger that she herself had been guilty of digging under the fence to meet a handsome Doberman. 

Ginger wept big doggie tears. “If I hadn’t been digging, I’d still be alive.”

MAMA’s Boys Meet 4B (B for no, 4 for dating, sex, children, marriage)

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They sloughed into DC for the inauguration. They meant to get there sooner, but the polar vortex swept down and froze the engines on their hogs. They took a bus to DC. Man, they were jazzed. Trump would “Make America Misogynist Again.” Overturning Roe was a down payment. He’d keep his promise to protect women, “Whether they like it or not.”

Tex, the organizer, noticed there were no chicks in the crowd. Ladies, way too delicate for this weather. He checked his dating app. Every woman’s profile said, “Not interested. Back in 2029, maybe.” WTF?

MAMA’s Boys- 0. 4Bs- 1.

https://www.the-independent.com/life-style/4b-movement-trump-election-win-south-korea-b2643558.html

A Doggie Solution

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I had a lover and then we split. He wanted the dog. So did I. I won that fierce argument. The ex settled for visits.

The dog was a steady companion, a good judge of character. He loved us both and told us so with sloppy licks. He sniffed the air in that doggie way that senses tension, anger, sweet innocence. He buried the bones of contention so that we could be friends.

Doggie romped, played, distracted, comforted in the language of liquid eyes and soft tongue against tear stained cheeks. Stayed close, healing pain with sweet and kind attentiveness.

An Elegy to Everydayness- a Pantoum

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Death disrupts life’s everydayness. 
Ends the companionship of eating together,
Evening walks and midnight talks
With friends and family.

Ends the companionship of eating together,
Thoughts shared, words and deeds. These bring us close
With friends and family,
Confer death its sting through everyday loss.

Thoughts shared, words and deeds, these bring us close.
Long before we die these precious threads loosen, 
Confer death its sting through everyday loss.
Everyday loss creeps up, settles in softly

Long before we die these precious threads loosen,
Evening walks and midnight talks.
Everyday loss creeps up, settles in softly.
Death disrupts life’s everydayness.

The Beauty and the Mime

Open Media Library

It had been ages since the mime had smoked. He sat in the shade of a spreading tree, sipped a mimosa, and wondered how he might pay for breakfast. 

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked into the cafe. She sat, alone, at an adjacent table. The mime signaled a waiter, who brought a mimosa to the woman.

Her eyes sent an invitation. He rose, sat. The tips of their cigarettes glowed together, their fingers touched, made a slow circle. A crowd gathered, electrified by their mirrored movements, the chemistry between them, and the promise of young love.

Chekhov’s Gun Meets Occam’s Razor

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Mary’s gone crackers. It’s her husband’s fault. Occam thinks the world is an orderly place. He believes in simple, direct solutions.

Mary disagrees, she believes in Chekhovian twists and turns. What’s more, she expects that if there is a gun, it will go off in the end. She is correct.

Mary bought a gun safe for the pistol that belonged to Occam’s grandfather. For months, she nagged Occam to lock it up. She pleaded, she threatened. The simplest solution was to stow it herself. She looked everywhere for the gun, only to find Occam out shooting at zigzagging jack rabbits.