I  haven’t left the house in weeks,  
limping room to room, forgetting
what I came for, wearing unwashed
the goose-turd green flannel pajamas
I inherited from my mother-in-law’s awful
second husband.  On Netflix last night,
a precociously ironic five-year-old
protested, “Of course, I love popcorn!
I’m not an animal!”  Then again,
I myself might be an animal, one
of the dumber ones unfazed by guilt,
that useless emotion, arranging
& rearranging the bottles of hand lotion
you left behind & imagining I’m
now living inside my favorite meme,
a hermit’s cave, a sign scrawled
above the entrance, “free hugs!”

Selected byNolcha Fox
Image credit:Lingchor

I've lived in Tucson since 1953 and retired in 2008 from teaching writing at Pima Community College.

My poems have appeared in journals like Carolina Quarterly, Barrow Street, RATTLE, and New Poets of the American West. 

I'm a passionate supporter of Sky Island Alliance, a regionally-based environmental organization.

Yesternow, my twelfth poetry collection, was just published by Moonstone Arts Press (Philadelphia).