Doomsday Phobia: Haikus

It’s December two-two And here I am, still breathing Can you say buzzkill? LA got it wrong The world ended years ago with new Die Hard films Those silly Mayans All that crazy sacrifice And nothing happened The politicians hoped to die and thus avoid the fiscal cliff talks

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Teaching is a Full-Time Job

I don’t know how people do it all day, every day, for years.   No, I’m not talking about sex (I know how people do that, and I’m still routinely disgusted by the whole affair… see what I did there?). I’m talking about education. To be more precise, I’m talking about teaching.     I […]

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Damsel in Distress, pt. 1

I am not usually helpless. I am very good at taking care of myself–you have to be when you have an anxiety disorder; otherwise, your head will probably explode. And that really doesn’t help when you’re trying to look cute. Usually, I am very, very careful about everything. I am one of those people who […]

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Movement Poem–For Kelly

Finally! Time to type it up! Poetry project submissions are now open again! “Movement” It all happens in a moment: The twirl of leaves, of fingers, of teeth on the eve of breathing. Footsteps sound solid–vent- ing the tick-tock tales of time. We are all even with the ground–suspended slightly, arrows that move an inch […]

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Introduction

Well, hello, friends. I’ve been a busy bee. And I’ve written something that I would like to share for feedback, and to let you know that I’m still writing like a fiend. I just have time issues for when I can post (right now, for example, my students are working on an extra-credit test assignment […]

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The Haze has Lifted!

I woke up a few days ago, and for the first time in months, I wanted to write. I was desperate to write. I was like Lindsay Lohan in a jewelry store: I couldn’t help myself. I just had to do it. It was all I could think about.   (Except for the fact that […]

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Depression

I’m not going to offer an explanation as to why I haven’t written anything in a month; no, I’m going to tell you a story. My depression starts at the back of my esophagus. It begins as a small hole, only noticeable at three in the morning when I trace shapes  with my eyes on […]

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