Fascinatior Bunny

She begged for him to stop. To pull over. They had left Burning Man in the middle of the night to avoid leaving the playa in the heat. Fighting over the map neither trusted the other. With compass and flash light they became lost in the desert searching for the paved road. Trapped in the car for hours, the highway should have been a relief from their never ending fight. But the pitch black playa road was teaming with animals. They were slaughtering jack rabbits. Pygamy rabbits, antelope squirrel, yellow belied marmots, bull frogs, pacific chorus frogs, they almost killed a deer. 

For awhile he tried speed, high beams, only accelerating the thumps. He tried slowing down, evasive maneuvers. Still the critters flipped up into the head lamps and got smacked. She accused him punishing her, of orchestrating this carnival firing line. Gaslighting her. And instead of addressing her concerns. He took exception to her words. Her intonation. Insinuations. 

She made a grab for the wheel. He slammed on the breaks, his leg sounded the horn. He  pulled over because he wanted a smoke anyway. She composed herself, feeling her head, adjusting her feather fascinator. A coyote howled in the distance while they waited for the morning light. 

Western Justice

The boy next door who has the outward appearance of being a man. With his muscles and tattoos. Used to be a friend. Until I found him going through my drawers under the house. “I won’t be inviting you inside again.” That’s what I said to him. He seemed content to chat across the property line and then? I suspected he had moved out of his fathers house. Only to surface now in the palettes of missing designer pet food. First it was a huge jug of Woolite, gone. I searched the internet, reddit. “Does anyone have experience with fake surveillance cameras?”

I’m still waiting for the specialty motion sensor blinking infrareds I ordered. 

For now I’ve devised a section just for him. To take whatever he wants. An altar if you will. He loves perfume, so I’ve left out a large envelope stuffed with perfume samples sealed. On top of the dog food, so he can feel like he’s still stealing. There’s a pharmacy sized wide mouthed candy jar full of batteries. All powers and shapes of spent. And of course the vegetarian dog food Meeshoo won’t eat. With new additions everyday.

SO s

I’m with my super secret friend in the car. I start regurgitating the most infuriating news. The least interesting level I primer conversation. A rage r with factoids and numbers that I layer in with obscure details about my childhood that “she” is too faymis to remember. 

We arrive at our destination and meet up again after an hour. Back on the road I find the radio news channel and she suddenly interrupts to tell me about a story she heard on NPR. That this percent of the population wants that. Heading toward a long haul drone to support some ancillary theory of relativity, I stopped her.

Don’t you remember I just told you that story? 


A half hour ago? 

My timing was off which gave me less credibility. I prodded her memory basically calling her a liar when she claimed she only remembered my personal antidotes. (BULLSHIT)

I’ve always preferred older kids. But this is ridiculous. 


I’ve been using the baked car method of sanitizing and cycling masks and pluck from a mountain of discards on the passenger floor mat. At the 7-11,  I double up. Chinese N95 under and blue disposal over. A lady older than me, by at least a decade unsteady on her feet, teeters around the aisles forcing my peripheral monitoring. Presenting as an oncoming accident; she needs to stay away from the donuts. The line IS not moving and I can barely breathe in my muzzles. After 10 minuets I consider it my right to walk out with merchandise. Waiting to pay is unconscionable. I fix my concentration well behind the suggested floor foot decals and fidget and turn around still waiting and there she is diminutive and directly behind me without a mask. I take my gatorade bottle and plunge it cap first like a sword at her abdomen.


OK, I go get my mask.

At the post office a few days ago I had time and space to consider the elderly man without a mask and said HEY bud you forgot your mask and chided him when he returned. I’ve done the same thing forgetting PANDEMIC WORLD. Getting out of my truck bare cheeked.

I’m rattled that I didn’t apologize to the unusually small woman who was might have been weak from radiation or have a brain disease and almost cry again.

Negro Perro

export copy

I’ve made mistakes gone on unfathomable shopping tangents that I don’t know what to do with. Napoleon jewelry and only his visage when accompanied by an eagle on his head. Then the pope holy medals and all the men of the church because nobody collects those. I had this idea of making pervert necklaces mixing in dangling Barbie doll heads but in concert when I saw them all together I felt a deflation by the gymnastics of jump rings and singular ugliness of it all divorced from what it was that I was trying to say, but had forgotten. Now I’m stuck with the hard boiled egg I fed Meeshoo yesterday farting back all that effort at the market and my glasses the wrong magnification. I couldn’t see the meats and still don’t know if I reached for the brains or the guts.



Picked up from a new farmer, my box of weekly produce so large it wouldn’t fit into a valise. I had to drag it in a huge garbage bag with rest stops, up the steps one at a time to my dungeon to process. The greens I couldn’t identify went straight in with the Moringa, kales, and turmeric to the juicer. This picture is the happy aftermath when the pulp is distributed to the worms.