One Night Downtown


We walked along Michigan avenue
the green water of the Chicago river
lapping against the tour boats
the violinist on the street
a hat at his feet-his tones
dropping into lower Wacker drive

Romance was in the air- for hours
we watched the fog rise off the water
and play around the parapets
etching our names into the slat of a bench
eating popcorn-our fingers greasy
against each other holding hands

When we arrived at our hotel, we laid back
watching the news and talking quietly
changing channels from game show to talk show
the news gripping us-the violence in the streets
while we had been there-falling in love
blood spilled someone’s love all over the concrete

When we talk about the memory now, all is changed
from the loveliest date ever
to the night someone we never knew
lost her baby boy



Monday Random: sad


  • More violence. I just don’t feel like being clever today
  • I really hate the satire associated with this. It is too soon
  • No, I do not think gun control has any bearing on this. I could cite sources but I don’t think arguing is going to help anyone this morning
  • It feels like we are in a war
  • It is war.
  • In times of war, it was good for the citizens to do their job, keep going, keep their families going, and be good neighbors
  • Being a good neighbor is more important than ever
  • Jesus got that right didn’t He? Sure did. Love your neighbor cannot be disputed as I heard over and over again in Houston and Miami
  • So sad. I will move on with my day. I do feel like the divisiveness of last November is not helping. We are in this together.

Try and have a good monday and be good to someone. I will try to do the same though my first inclination is to stay inside and lock my door. I will try and go with my second inclination. Love you all, thanks for reading–


I don’t know what else to say, except I love you, Manchester

I have said nothing to anyone about Brussels. I have been
silent, as I was after Paris. (I should have said something)

What is there to say-how much is enough?
(Mumbai, New York City, Cameroon, Boston, Ouagadougou,
Jakarta, Manchester, Tanta, London, San Bernardino,
Istanbul, Oklahoma City, Chicago-
do you have time for a complete listing)

I know that anything I say will be insufficient and vague
in comparison (to the truth)
[put up next to what they need
more than words]

If it were me, if I was there, I imagine
I would be as silent as now, wanting to
scream but instead- zombielike- tidying up
walking through what is mundane and useful
and cleaning up the atrocity of violation.
[(This is not yours. Why
do you insist on breaking it to pieces)
is as close as I have come to words]

Are you not tired of the raging?
I weary of the anger, the pure hate
that does not end
always simmering, sometimes boiling over
yet constantly being refilled, that tank-

What can I say? Who am I? I am your neighbor, weeping for you.
My words feel small. My anger does not feel

Rest in peace

Did you tidy up before leaving
did you make waffles for breakfast
and make the beds before you showered
did you read some chapters from a novel
or walk hundreds of stairs
did you know it was your last day

Did you make love
did you fantasize about your first meeting
did you eat your favourite doughnut and feel guilty
were you apprehensive about your eye doctor
telling you how your eyes have changed
at so young an age

Did you sing along with the radio
did you dance in your shower
did your kids fuss and make a mess
of cheerios on the sofa watching cartoons
did you get online and tell the world
about the pimple on your back

Did you walk past a church
did it make you think of your mother
did you smile when a child burped
and laughed, or did you scold
did you wipe up the baby’s spit-up
did you know it was your last day


In memory of Nykea Aldridge and all of the 762 people murdered in Chicago in 2016.

I tried to write a well – spoken tribute in her honor and for her children because I was so moved by what happened. The words just wouldn’t come. If we are this stunned by this murder, I can’t imagine how her family feels, especially after finding out the murderers were let out of prison early. If they don’t let this justice system work, it will never ….well, work.

I hate epilogues. But I felt I had to say something. Anything.