My mother's poems
My mother cut her own life short and left three little girls behind. We know very little of her. These poems are precious to me.
Dancing to Elvis
“This is from when he broke up with Priscilla. You can tell he put everything he had into it. I think it might be the best song he ever did,” Jim said.
Fuckin' Falafel
I'm about to email a file from my laptop at home to my computer at work when I hear Jim's voice booming from the kitchen: "I can't believe you already picked up that fuckin' falafel!"
Crepe myrtle reflections
The pay was $1 per hour and all you could eat, and I ate more than my share of raspberry sherbet.