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September 9, 2018

I lost Mom last April. After receiving the call that she was struggling, I hopped on a plane without packing. I stayed in the hospital with her. My brothers, sister, niece, and nephew--we occupied every available surface--and took turns laying beside her in the bed. An...

April 2, 2018

One of my poems made it into Drunk Monkeys Pop Culture issue. I wrote it in 2009, when I first came to Los Angeles. I was fascinated with the people who make their living posing as characters and stars from film and television. While they're not supposed to charge to h...

February 9, 2018

So this is what I wrote for my dad today. He died around six years ago: 

Happy Birthday Dad. Today I feel full of you. I looked at old pictures. In one, you're standing like a sea star at the edge of a lake. Another, holding a small dog high against your chest, peering...

December 26, 2017

This was the Christmas I woke up earlier than everyone else--to stare at the presents under the tree and will them to open. The Raggedy Ann and Andy were sitting in a little chair, waiting for me. I was delighted, and scooped them up. I had a runny nose and I remember...

November 23, 2017

I have a few favorite writing places at home--my office/library, the living room, and the bench by the pond. This was a day for the big chair at the end of the couch, which is wide enough for one of the 70-pounders (Billy and Lola) to sit beside me and not interfere wi...

November 5, 2017

Dogs are great for writers. They encourage us to take breaks, and get our blood circulating after hours of sitting at the desk (or on the couch). Sometimes, though, they're a little distracting. Example A: Billy leads the pack in distraction.

October 30, 2017

 I'm just glad that he wasn't being so helpful in my office...

June 18, 2017

I wrote this for my father's memorial  six years ago. We had a concert, told stories, and read poetry instead of a wake or funeral. Some Father's Day sting more than others. This is one of them.

Three months have passed

since we flew to Minneapolis

and drove madly through


May 21, 2017

There is a romantic notion of what a vampire is. I would like to suggest that there is nothing romantic about a reanimated corpse that tears the throats from its victims and walks around with blood dripping from its chin. Having said this, I would also like to suggest...

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