Mi corazon, an ivory-veined granite rock
tossed into the Rio Grande moons ago.
I want to float up, pierce the muddied waters
like a machete and fight for what’s right;
for mis hermanas, but I’m only half, not real.
I want to be one with you, but I’m güera,
I’m fighting my own guerra at home.
Christine woke up from a nightmare in an Alaskan Best Western, before realizing she wasn’t dreaming. “This is a very scary time for young men in America,” the man in the t.v. blasted. She hadn’t come far enough north. So she unplugged, strapped on her big red hiking boots (the better to kick with) and escapedContinue reading “Scary Times for Men”
Fifty-six years ago when I was four. Yes, do the math, I am in my sixties. I am old enough to know better, or young enough to still have my faculties. At four was I old enough to know best? At fourteen was he only being a boy? “Just look into this tiger’s eye,” heContinue reading “I’M SORRY TO SAY THAT I DO REMEMBER”
This morning, with all the news about Weinstein and cover-ups, new revelations, shock and disbelief (please, we’ve always known what goes on on the casting couch, in the priest’s confessional and under the politician’s desk), I am compelled to write a New Adult novel with a working title: “The Spring of Our Disconnect” “Once uponContinue reading “The Spring of Our Disconnect”
As the credits for The Glass Castle rolled, so did my tears. Once in the lobby, I excused myself and entered into a bathroom stall where I bawled my eyes out. Watching the The Glass Castle felt as if a scab was being ripped off as my tears flowed into the toilet (the loo isContinue reading “The Glass Castle Shatters My World”
Wearing my running shoes and favorite stretch pants, I was almost ready as I drove across the valley, still groggy and with a cup of coffee in hand. But when I arrived at the Universal Studio train station and then circled the parking lot, it became clear I wasn’t going to find a spot. IContinue reading “I GOT WOKE”
Resembling little angels in our virginal mantillas like halos over Shirley Temple curls, my fair-haired BFF Cindy and I paced in the foyer of Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in our spotless white dresses. “It’s time. Are you scared?” I whispered to Cindy, her blue eyes wide. Then I let go of her hand. IContinue reading “SAINT RUTHIE”