what’s new pussycat?

Good news and bad news (well, actually not bad news… just not as good news).

First, I am out of my lease by the end of the month. Huzzah!  Also, my parents have relented and we now have all three cats staying with us. Huzzah!

I have been posting pictures of women holding cats on my Pinterest account.  And various song lyrics by P!nk. Because my life needs a motivational poster right now.

I think my cats are happy with this new arrangement, because when I wake up in the morning, all three of them are on my bed.

Not these cats, and not this bed. (Love the color, though. What’s with the monkey in a hulu skirt?)

three cats bed.jpg

They fight like cats… and cats. But they finally settle down around midnight and decide that a part of the bed is better than no bed at all.  Or being sent up to live with a hermit.

Yes, I’ve said it: my ex-husband is a hermit.  Anyone who knows him would agree.

Let’s see… not as good news. My daughter is still having an allergic reaction to something and I am at a bit of a loss.

We bought an air purifier and generic Zyrtec and Xyzal. Let’s see if that helps.

Yes, I know, it is possible that the cats are to blame.  By dad reminds me of this constantly. But I think it is more likely a combination of seasonal allergies, mold and mildew, and eye strain due to way too much time on the internet.

Also, news: we’re not getting any of our security deposit back. So there’s that.

This will be the last poem I am releasing before I gather up some of my previously posted poems and publish them as an eBook. And I don’t even know if this one, or Red or Renegade for that matter, will be in this volume or in another.

There will probably be some more poems about food and drink that are thinly veiled euphemisms for sex and/or body parts.

sexual euphemisms

Like that should be surprising to no one, at all.

Seriously, what kind of erotica author/poet would I be if I didn’t at least to try to rhyme banana and cucumber with something?


the breadcrumbs were not so I could turn back.
they were laid down so that I might abscond
past the beasts who would choose easy fodder:
from dark cabin to a bright new beyond.

the burghal is a hammering drumbeat.
I seek refreshment, a warm and safe bed.
around each corner there lurks a villian.
in every eye, I see all that’s not said.

oh, she’s a tasty morsel for eating.
oh, she’s a trusting mark to rob blind.
oh, she’s a trinket, a throw-away lass.
oh, she’s just what we wanted to find.

I twist a pathway through serpentine streets,
but the monsters know them better than I.
my back to the wall, with nowhere to go,
I summon shadow: Scatha hear my cry.

yes, I have more in my pocket than crusts.
yes, I have more in my soul than just dreams.
I have eluded the beasts, now come the brutes.
magick will rip them apart at the seams.

Categories my inklingsTags
Hours I own all of these ideas, but none of these images.
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