Brown Butter Tarts

blessing the boats

may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding

carry you out
beyond the face of fear

may you kiss
the wind then turn from it

certain that it will
love your back may you

open your eyes to water
water waving forever

and may you in your innocence

sail through this to that

(Lucille Clifton)

In loving memory of my grandmother, who loved butter tarts, and who physically moved on to the other side last month after a decade of dementia. I would give anything to be able to be with you while you order coffee with one cream and send it back for another. You were wonderful, and I have missed you, and I will miss you. Thank you for being you.


Chocolate Beet Snack Cake

Something is bubbling, somewhere.

Hot steam above purple water.

Making fuchsia goop.

It melts into chocolate,

which turns to batter.

Then, it’s cake. Somewhere,

-between beets and a creme fraiche cloak-

it becomes.

Salty Pretzel Brownie Cookies

notes on nostalgia:

longing for the flavor of Past

(becoming that for a moment)

round table against a wooden wall + birds chirping at the feed across the way

-lively chatter before snack time-

and so, it exists [in the present] experience

frames set to the color:

w i s t f u l

pretzels crunch-ed and the oven poofs cocoa air

[vanilla, imitated + brownies as cookies]

because maybe you don’t need to go back because maybe all you need to see is that you know how to find it now when it arrives in its new form

Birthday Strawberry Pie Bars

if what you want and need

is pure and good,

do not hear the ones who say you should not have it.

already, there are so many expectations placed,

and happiness cannot be contingent on certain criteria

determined by those without your greatest good in mind.

no one else decides your capacity for fulfillment.

(or the level to which you can be loved, truly)

one more year around the sun, and it worked wonders // hello from the beach with my mama today //

the greatest gift is to have all this love in my life [see also: all those syrup-sweet, ripe-red, joyful-juicy strawberries in my pie bars]

happy days upon days upon days

The Summer Playlist 2018

I dream that I have found us both again,

With spring so many strangers’ lives away,

And we, so free,

Out walking by the sea,
With someone else’s paper words to say….

They took us at the gates of green return,
Too lost by then to stop, and ask them why-

Do children meet again?
Does any trace remain,
Along the superhighways of July?

Thomas Pynchon [Gravity’s Rainbow]-

Rosy Matcha Fizz

I forgot I made tea. I lost track of it.

(I dried all of the ingredients)

lemon, mint, rose

and it sat on the counter, unnoticed. For months.

Between rolls of the dice, I turned and recalled, “I’ve made my own tea before, you know.”

[splatter of numbers on the table] + he claps long-thumbed hands together, looks up. Oh yeah?

mmmhmm Yes! right.

(r e m e m b e r ing)

Blood Orange Cake


blushing blooming blossoming

blinking [eyes open] / hear that squish

magenta juice, coral flesh

making fragrant +

t u r n i n g pink

in some wayshapeform (or cake)