My Book is a Lake

For thirteen years I’ve walked along this lake, most with a dog, stick in his mouth, longing, eyes on the lake. Now, I can only touch his stick, which he is offering to me, and which I know disappoints him because I can’t throw it into the water until I heal. I’m too focused on […]



I never want to know the many things they did when they flayed open my chest, my arm, cracked my sternum and stopped my heart. Blissful ignorance is what I needed, and some drugs, buckets of them. I was reminded too much of salmon, gutted torsos, lungs, heart, parts. But that’s how they do, these magicians, these […]

The Historical Heart

Remembering everything, the heart, at last, breaks. At first, in the undulating folds as my fetus came together the cleft separated, a misaligned heart began, beating days upon days. It remembered the fall, and mother carrying me to hospital, the salt-air summers in Balboa – running full ‘round the boardwalk. The heart worked hard during […]