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Cat Over Clock

Poetry Saves the World

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June

Narrative Medicine and the Wild Woman Archetype

It is anchoring me to the book that's inside of me, yearning to spill onto a page, and it is sparking in me this desire to share the importance of narrative medicine.

Period Blues: Main-Stream Options

Welcome to my health series: Period Blues How it all started:  The Poll Set Backs The Fight Body Wisdom The Cleveland Clinic defines dysmenorrhea: Dysmenorrhea is the medical term for pain with menstruation. There are two types of dysmenorrhea: "primary" and... Continue Reading →

Period Blues: Set Backs?

Welcome to my health series: Period Blues How it all started:  The Poll The Fight Mainstream Options Body Wisdom   IS THIS ABOUT EQUALITY AND A WOMAN'S RIGHT TO EQUAL PAY? IS IT ABOUT INTOLERANCE? IS IT ABOUT FEAR? IS... Continue Reading →

Dear Pacific,

Alone in the shower I wash the foam of you dried ocean foam from my hips. This water cannot clean like the ocean cannot strip me bare like the ocean. Yesterday with you-- I was the flower in a clam,... Continue Reading →

Trail

I want to go with you I want to go as you destroy flowers on your way. Pulling off petals to leave a trail. You won't tell me for whom. Back home a metal thermometer screwed to the window pane--... Continue Reading →

Unwashed Apple Seeds

Apple seeds poisoned with the elements of myself I can not swallow fill bowls around my house. They don't allow mixed fruit into this place, no hollow echos from stoneless peaches or the too sweet nectar of just one strawberry.... Continue Reading →

1001: a literary journal release party

Join us June tenth at the IPRC, Portland, Oregon at 7:00 for a wonderful celebration and reading from the 2nd edition, 1001 contributors.  Interviews with the contributors and the certificate program members can be enjoyed here: http://1001journal.tumblr.com/

The things I found in your house:

Owl with blue eyes Bowl of cigarette butts by the tub Table with clawed feet Covered by years Of magazines and laundry Pan overripe with smell The sun shining on Clock hands pointing at the ceiling A front room with... Continue Reading →

Dear Alfred 

Dear Alfred, I feel where I am my heart could carry me over the bridge and censor what happened to it in this dystopian future that cannot exist. How will the valves, aortas or chambers even work? Flattened out and... Continue Reading →

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