Mothers who love their children take them along.—Maxine Hong Kingston, Woman Warrior
When my mother goes away
she visits men in cages;
she has always known
are synonymous depending
on who locks the gate.
When my mother goes away
she takes me with her
sometimes and we walk
along the causeway,
looking for gates.
This poem was first published in my collection Lupercalia.
Public Service Announcement: a few of my favorite poems from Lupercalia are now on audio!
There is an option to pay what you want if you’d like to toss a dollar my way but only if you really, really want to. I want you to have my poems more than I want you to pay me for them.
The tracks themselves are decent but they are not digitally mastered or made with any kind of professional recording equipment. I always try to put out the best possible product but right now I can’t afford a microphone or rent a sound booth so don’t judge too hard.
I tried to keep the cat and traffic noises to a minimum.
After I finished recording my poems we had a French drain dug in our back yard and replaced one of the walls in our den so there was too much construction noise to record anything else but there will be audio versions of a few of my short stories coming soon.
LUPERCALIA TRACK LIST
2. How to Build a Nest
3. Wife of Lot
4. Mermaid Songbook: A Boat Alone
5. Mermaid Songbook: The Witch’s Song
6. Mermaid Songbook: Dead Mermaid Singing
7. Mermaid Songbook: Redemption
8. Little Girls
10. After the Flood
12. Twisted Myth
13. Mirror Angels
15. Things Tourists Love
Wander through the nameless city full of rebellion, desire, and viciousness. Jessica Halsey’s Lupercalia guides readers through the ruins of stories as they smash against reality.
The city is born, slippery and feral, and then it grows, collects and rejects a multitude of denizens that break and reshape the boundaries of mythology.
These speculative and fantastical poems represent the search for identity and purpose in a world that challenges the endurance of the human spirit. From the fall of Icarus to the loneliness of abandon, these poems represent how every mythological hero and trial are reflections of our daily lives.
Me: You sleep well, love.
Mr. J: You too, get plenty of rest.
Mr. J: Actually do it, get rest.
Me: (silence…I was actually thinking about fixing a plot point and not really paying attention.)
Mr. J: Actually do it. And don’t use your rebellious voice.
Me: (laughs) I don’t have a rebellious voice.
Mr. J: You have three.
Me: (laughs) Really?
Mr. J: Yep.
Me: Tell me about ’em.
Mr. J: No.
So back in August 2014 I met my best friend. February 13, 2015 (Friday the 13th and the day before Valentine’s Day) we got married.
Shortly after my divorce and before I met Mr. J I made this list. I decided that if I was going to ever try to date again I needed to learn from my mistakes and do all the things better. And I wanted to find the exact opposite of my ex.
Funny thing: somehow we both forgot to ask each other what our political affiliations were until after we got married. Boy was that a surprise. I was all like: how did we go this long without having one political discussion? But it’s okay. Even though we disagree about some things, we still love each other, accept each other, and work together to make both of our lives better. That’s how respect works.
Henna for the civil ceremony.
It was a lovely, crisp, clear night when we got married.
In the morning it looked like this:
It’s was an awesome day! Today is awesome too! Here’s to this life and the next! Together forever! I love you Mr. J!
Do you have one?
Did you have one?
If you’re a writer, are your characters your imaginary friends?
Today I binge watched all of Sci Fi’s Happy on Netflix and it made me think a lot about the distinct lack of imaginary friends in my life.
I never made up a taking animal or another human that only I could see and interact with. I’ve always felt slightly less human because of that. I feel like everyone who’s truly creative had an imaginary friend somewhere in their childhood, which cuts me out of the True Creative category.
I did have a stuffed rabbit named Fuzzy in elementary school and later a stuffed frog named Filbert that I had all through high school and college. Filbert was more of an emotional support plushie, a therapeutic tool, while Fuzzy was my BFF.
Somewhere in first grade Fuzzy disappeared. I don’t know if I lost him at school or if my father threw him away because I was too old to be so attached to a stuffed animal or whatever. But with Fuzzy gone I was devastated.
At this point you may be wondering if I had any real friends growing up. The answer is not really. There were a few people but we only interacted at school or through school related activities, I never kept up with them and they never kept up with me once we changed schools.
So in a sense I made my own friends but I used inanimate objects to build my stories and characters upon. I never invented a creature out of thin air, from scratch until I started seriously writing fiction. But I don’t see my characters walking around helping me kill bad guys or cheat at poker. And even though my characters do talk to me it’s only in the context of their stories, they don’t exist in this world with me.
I kinda wish they did, it might make writing easier.
To anyone reading this: what’s your experience with imaginary friends? I’d love to know your thoughts on the subject. And if you’ve seen Happy and if you liked it. I personally thought it was amazing.