This morning's bio-blography
The alarm goes off. Steve said last night only let me stay for one snooze button. 23 minutes later, I say that was one long snooze button. It’s Thursday, my day off, and before he leaves for the bus, he kisses my ear and whispers, write your bio... I snuggle back into the pillow and say, Dear Website, thing is, I don’t know why. And what I mean is I don’t know how poetry works, or is, or was, or does. But when you know how the trick works, the magician stops. Just let the magician not stop, I say. How the smell of fresh ground coffee beans in the morning reminds me of a friend and my first apartment in Milwaukee. How putting honey on my yogurt yesterday reminded me of the summer I lived in Santa Cruz. How I love fall and saying yellow. How the blue happened in the bluejay. Pencils. A chilly day in July and getting to wear a sweatshirt. Walking down to get the mail. Sending a postcard. How Fridays are always falling in love. Watching late-night Hitchcock reruns recorded for early-night because at 58, you-know-why. Maybe it’s how to say ordinary and everywhere and now without using those words. Maybe it’s how you put butter and sugar and flour together and hope this time for a perfect chocolate chip cookie. And how some days it works and some days it doesn’t, but, thing is, if you know, don’t tell me.
2014: The Council for Wisconsin Writers Lorine Niedecker Poetry Award.
2013 Concrete Wolf Editor's Choice award for (Prologue).
2012 Outstanding Achievement in Poetry from the Wisconsin Library Association for the chapbook, Tricks of Light.
2010 Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets First Place Muse Prize winner.