Travels with Barlie

Hands down, my favorite author, poet and conversationalist is my brother David.  He doesn't share easily but I was born privileged.  His dark humor and quiet intelligence have always been one of my favorite parts of growing up.  He would be horrified if he knew I was sharing something we wrote when we were tiny hurt kids.  David, don't look.  


Oh, and this picture is from last's week's practice camping trip. Getting ready for the road.  Three months to go.

Shadow Land

I am a shadow of a beginning

A twinkle in a paisley-eyed parent

I live behind a bruised heart

Bought with a few moments

of less than a good time

I sleep on a bloody bed

Nourished by pain and neglect

and salty tears swallowed

by the lips of a picket-fence memory

I come out smelling of hope

I am a shadow of a doubt

A hallway closet boy

I live behind a new suede jacket

Bought with empty bellies

I sleep on worn-out shoes

I eat crackers in the dark

And crumbs of leftover fish sticks

Scraped off the plates of self-proclaimed kings

I come out smelling of quiet

I am shadow of what’s to come

A silent sentinel of sun and moon

Living behind myriads of myriads

Bought with the blood of a guiltless one

I eat hoarfrost without complaint

And gulp down the sweet and sour messages

of prophets long ago

I come out smelling of nothing

       -David & Michele,   from a long time ago

Industrial Jewelry Artist

Beautiful Bruiser