little silver audi (don’t try this at home)

one night
i got into a fast
silver audi
with a stranger
who said
i was different
& strange
& funny…
& we drove top speed
through the dark
of dallas texas
& i heard dido sing
on his radio…
it was the first time
i had ever heard her sing
he never told me his name
that dark-haired boy
but i made it home alive
despite myself
& none the wiser
for having driven off with a strange man
in a fast car
through the dark streets
of dallas texas.

this is a strong memory for me.
for a lot of reasons. i hesitated to share it because it sounds like the opposite of a fable. like i am encouraging other adventurous young women with low self-esteem to hop into fast cars with boys unknown….
i’m not doing that. it was surely a bad idea. and years later this habit of mine did get me molested by a creepster named chester who drove much more slowly.


wouldn’t it be nice to live in a world where a vulnerable person did not have to worry about hopping into a car with someone just to go on an adventure? a world where women and other vulnerable peoples weren’t automatically classified as victims? if something had happened, the stranger wouldn’t have been blamed, i would have been blamed for hopping naively into a car with an unknown–as my boyfriend blamed me years later when the creepster molested me after i took a drive in his car with him.

i dunno.

this is a stupid world we live in.

and i find myself wondering if i got into the cars of strange men, trusting them at their word that it was just a car ride, because i am naive…because i am self-destructive…or because i am an adventurous person who secretly believes in a better world.

d. i suppose, all of the above.



strangers love me best

strangers love me better
than my friends do
strangers offer me smiles
unsolicited help
look away
don’t make eye contact
walk away slowly
“it was good to see you”
“maybe next year”
as my tears are not worth
the salt
& my cries
are never heard
no one
was listening


sunflower me

i have recently decided
that it is enough
that i find
hugely entertaining.

it is probably for the best
that i find myself
to be a hoot.
and that i love my own

i might be
but i am me.
i am i am i am
i really really am

and i love that about myself.


my jedi

when i was 13
in 1983
i fell in love
with luke
those scars on his face
i would tell my friends
all about it
because i knew the scoop from my teen
(& i still have my copy)
in 2003
i married a man
named “walker”
and over the years
gave our four children
the middle name “sky”
my heart is no less tender
than the heart of that 13 year old girl
who gazed
who imagined
a hero
a rebel

i have never done fan art, but seeing posts by mark hamill on twitter just wrench my heart in that all too familiar lovesick teenager way.
i dunno.
it’s goofy.
but i did this drawing because of all that.