not-quite Journaling, 55
and flirt with joy.
6/6/2023: And to cover all my bases, I kiss determination (and ram-headed stubbornness) on the mouth.
New York haze,
I wonder if flowers dream
of Canada rain
6/10/2023: The air quality has been good today, so I visited señoritas tulip, Persian buttercup, amaryllis… Since New York City is supposed to go back to unhealthily smoky haziness, by the end of the day, I figured my soul (and lungs) and I should gather a few breaths of fresh air for later.
mar the darkest mood
with a smile.
6/14/2023: It’s true. The ability to burst into endorphins-infused smiles (and cackles)—regardless of how bad things get—is just one of my superpowers. I can also annoy cruel people at will, delight my friends (and in my friends) from afar, ink horrors into armor, love all of my bits unconditionally… What about you? What are some of your superpowers?
Rosemary asked me to dream city dreams, so I did:
a wee note…
- When I shared the “I root for hope” blackout poem on Instagram, a dear friend informed me that, in Australia, “root” is a not-so-gentle euphemism for sex. Now, I can’t read “I root for hope” without giggling. Also, I am totally getting “I root for hope” on a T-shirt. 😁
- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #81: City Dreaming.