Stream of Consciousness (unedited) 

everything else blurs away like white static from televisions when i was growing up and september 11th happened and my mother’s face and the gray, so much gray. how did i find her after so many scenes and rituals and deep breaths? i found her standing right across from me at the wake, there were flowers swallowing up the room i was there, reading about nanny and everyone had tears in their eyes because it was so well written and beautiful and i missed her more than ever when i read about my sicilian grandmother, ancestor who shared my blue blue veins. i’ve been writing so much about my mother and the seasons and change, that i think real change is floating away from me before my very eyes and it’s scary, as scary as the gray, as the blue. soon it’ll be mother’s day again this year and i will think about how alive she is on paper but invisible in reality and wonder if she will read my book about her the day it gets published or will it sit on her kitchen counter while she dusts around it? 
you are rainbow, all the dim colors of night and i am still here waiting for woman with red lipped smiles and pointed eyebrows i watched you tweeze them in the mirror so many times behind but you looked away glass and pantyhose sheer black your perm looked at me with wide eyes and its curls puffed up at me almost like a cat who’s ready to attack. i ran away and never came back but you returned night after night in the glass mirror.

Jacob and the Dogs (100 word snippet)

“Fuck the system” is what I read on the stall door as I close it behind me. I’m squatting over the toilet, staring at the oddly masculine handwriting, wondering if this bathroom was once co-ed. Or maybe this chick just wrote like a guy. I flush and head toward the mirror to examine my face. I re-apply my deep red lipstick and smack my lips together.

Goosebumps run up and down my spine as my heels click out of the bar and into the street. A March night and there’s still a chill in the air. Every man who passes by me on the street stares at me like a savage. Like a dog. Salivating. Ready to eat me.

I quicken my pace and my peacoat swings back and forth at my knees. I examine the lights from the stores in the village. Porn. Porn. Naked girls. A smoke shop. Chinese food. More porn. Neon pinks and blues. Flickering and fading with the wind. Open for business.

I turn the corner swiftly and make my way up the stairs of our apartment. When I open the door, Jacob is sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette.

“Hey, sexy.” is what my best friend’s boyfriend says to me when she’s not in the room.

“Fuck the system” reads his shirt in white letters. I laugh.