Hey Baby

Baby Girl,

If you must choose between a cowgirl and a princess, be a cowgirl.

But still.

I think the whole world of work these days is wrapped up in worry..the economy, making more money, staying relevant even after globalization. In our respective workplaces we begin to eat each other alive, to pick and tear each other apart. Like a den of wolves, starving for fresh meat. When we're attacked by another pack, we turn on them and fight viciously.

The above is somewhat melodramatic.

But really, it's not too fun out there. I still believe that the people I work with are passionate about what they do, and will accept pay cuts, demoralizing speeches from leadership, bashes to the hard work they've done over and over again, and they will keep being passionate about what they do, because they aren't doing it for the money or the recognition or the promotions or even the camaraderie in the end. They are doing it for the deep-seated connection they have to wildlife. And when we wake up out of our blood-crazed senses and look around, we'll still appreciate that about each other.

Again, the above is somewhat melodramatic. But still.

Mush

http://crazycoppertop.blogspot.com/2010/02/love-letter-to-old-man.html

This Valentine's Day, I am proving my love to you with

green tea
burnt pancakes (damn it, I can never make breakfast, which is probably why i dream that you are in love with the blonde who makes french toast)
maple sausage
mexican lasagne
rice krispie treats smothered in pink icing
a card to tell you that when you get rid of your cold i'm going to jump your bones.

So What?

i might live life to
a contrived soundtrack. Better
false notes than affairs

sunday snow

the softest bed i know
is in the dirt and leaves
under new falling snow
my view full up
with tops of trees

Senryu Times Three: No French Toast for Thee

yes, dreams do matter

you put your hand on her hip

and stroked her blonde hair

her french toast smelled sweet

sick the way you whispered sex

and slurped the syrup

bad news, you Old Man

I beat up bedtime betty

no more french toast dreams

Annie's Voice

she thought she lost her voice
but then she made a choice

she thought she had no choice
but then she found her voice

tripping
hiding under the covers
from life
unsure of her direction
never with conviction

making hard choices
forcing herself to live with them
alone
in the house she built for herself
in the house she
and no one else
bought for herself

she tells herself she is nothing
no spine no substance
no SHE
no who she is supposed to be

but no one knows or cares
who she is supposed to be

she is carving
cutting
breaking
demanding
the right road for herself
and fuck everyone else
only she can find the way

and she will find the way

even if she never
ever
ever
finds her voice.