Appropriate Use of GPS System




Take me for a ride in your big German car.

The one where the windows slide up over the world,

And we glide all over the city, not talking.

So silently and smoothly as I sit in the leather molding, me like a Hapsburg princess

bowing and waving to my sidewalks.

Take me in your big German car to Soho

Where we can eat in places with names like countries that have abbreviated

Themselves into booths and red leather seats and shared dishes served by waiters

With hair that is curled into spires of cities yet unknown to me.

Turn on your woman who tells you where to go, how to navigate the world,

With a voice that is low from under the dashboard,

Almost guttural,

So strict you do it even when I ask you not to.

Take me in your car on the highway above and around and we can see the city

Lights and we glide along you and me with the resting arm place between us and

The purr purr of the great German machine telling me not to worry

Until morning.

There’s music to be heard from azure squares and the BBC world makes

Everything all right,

The proper perspective as

I braid my hair,

Polish my alpenrose,

Lower my lederhosen, while you drive us into the night.

The Hunt



She arranged her breasts as offerings to the night:

Lifting and presenting them in lacy cups

And set out to stir the sauce.

Salty and thick, some wine for headiness, she added oregano and took out the no.

She was going hunting.

The prey was so beautiful: curved and elegant, haunches still young, and eyes, eyes

So filled with information

About things she never knew she wanted to know.

She sat with him and the other guests and lowered the table so the eyes of the

guests were on each other

And no one knew what was happening in the other world

The underworld.

The world where his leg was so stretched out to her that her ankle became a radar


A depth sounder,

Two centimeters until you hit bottom.

Above board there were still rules

But in the underworld of love

There were none.

It was hot.

The dinner grew and the outside doors opened and vines and sweet fog came in

From the garden,

And one man asked his dinner companion to open her mouth.

There was a type of music playing.

The table was lifting and desert was so sweet no one could remember anything

But the taste of it in their mouths.

No one wanted to remember anything.

There was a beating,

A loud beating,

Not irregular in sound.

Perhaps there was lightness and perhaps not.

Then, a terrible sadness fell over her as the hunt ended.

The beat was slowing.

There was disengagement.

She released the prey

Without hurting his mouth,

Resulting in a wound to her heart.




When my grandmother died they laid her out

In the dusty, hazy, winter lit bedroom of her house.

The air moved in clouds around the family

Milling around noiselessly.

So we could bend and kiss her goodbye

They lined us up in one long row,

Determined by sex, age and family hierarchy.

Serpentine sprawl through

Long corridors lit by small monkeys

With torches for arms and watchful eyes.

I felt small

Smaller than my skin too loose over my knees my patent leather shoes like boats

With water in them sloshing my feet down the hall

Snaking through these old rooms a lavender tail

Swishing through a chamber lit by God’s spotlight,

The bed, a throne.

I moved out of my body and floated above the bed

Wanting to spit on her face.

Looking down I saw the gleam of her scalp through

Her fine silver hair and one small, daring, ant weaving its own path.

I took out her hairpins and shook her head

Tossing it for her

Cut the laces on her shoes and threw them

One by one

Out the window

And she rose and danced with me.

Danced like a wood nymph

Waved and bounced her dress a curtain that opened to me.

I saw her sorrow, her joy.

her prison.

I kissed her hand like a butterfly would

And sent her on her journey.

Camille Paglia and others

Todays New York Times has a couple of articles on the new drug being developed to increase female desire. It seems to be a hot issue. Camille Paglia wrote today that we have domesticated sex with our American desire to androgenize ourselves and to  forget the reason we were attracted to each other in the first place. She suggests we do this in our choice of dress, in our preference for women who are thin, fit and  androgynous, and in our middle class insistence on forgetting the  ” elemental power of sexuality”.

“In the discreet white-collar realm, men  and women are interchangeable, doing the same, mind based work. Physicality is supressed; voices are lowered  and gestures curtailed in sanitized office space.Men must neuter themselves, while ambitious women postpone procreation.Androgeny is bewitching in art, but in real life it can lead to stagnation and boredom which no pill can cure.”(NY Times, 6-27-10)

Paglia suggests the situation can be clearly seen in popular music today stating that rock music with its “raw sensuality” has lost its charm for many and the appeal of Lady Gaga demonstrates the current love of androgyny.

I say bring back the Rolling Stones and “Satisfaction”. Isn’t Camille interesting? I received many, many hits on my last post.There seems to be a lot of controversy on whether or not we need Viagra and female libido boosting drugs!

Viagra users demand women take drug to boost libido and keep up!

Why did men Invent Viagra?

If you think I am going to answer that question you are out of your mind. It has been answered many times before by many different types of people and I feel no need to do so again. It was invented by a man!

What I am interested in; however, is the new drug that will “boost libido” in woman. Why am I interested in this drug? Well, because the drug wouldn’t have been invented if not for Viagra. All of a sudden these old guys can and do expect to have sex with apparent ease and their wives or partners are having a hard time being interested. I was at a coffee place the other day and I overheard these two women discussing their sex lives. One was complaining about how often her husband wanted to have sex and how disinterested she was and the other was echoing the same tune and complaining about the invention of Viagra. Both were saying it had ruined a perfectly good sex life in a long term marriage. Both were talking about how uncomfortable sex was for them and how they now dreaded the times when their husbands appeared to be interested in sex. They said it went on for too long and was painful for them.I found this conversation fascinating as I had no idea this was happening in many households.  I did a little research on the street and found this to be true.

I happen to be in this demographic which is part of the reason I find it so interesting. I am surprised at how many men think that Viagra is crucial to having a good sex life and that taking  it enhances a woman’s pleasure. Women for the most part don’t have orgasms from intercourse and this is a fact that many men over the age of 50 don’t seem to be able to accept. Men having and maintaining an erection is just not that important to women as we function sexually in a different manner than many men appear to understand. Of course, if we love our man we want him to enjoy sex and achieve orgasm but we are different anatomically than men are… A younger woman friend of mine told me while discussing this issue that she found men my age not that great in bed as they didn’t understand what younger men now did. I was happy to hear that younger men understood what women have known for centuries. A penis is a nice thing but just not crucial in a woman’s enjoyment of sex.

Web MD states that the demographic for Viagra use is changing and that younger men are filling prescriptions for Viagra. The fastest growing segment of Viagra users are now men under 40 and Pfizer, the makers of Viagra, state that this is understandable as younger men want their sexual performance to be superior. They also state that Viagra use permits erections after 10 minutes of rest which is supposedly good for a couple’s sex life. Now I wonder who they spoke with to get that statistic. The wife? What woman would want more sex after 10 minutes if she had been really satisfied the first time? Not that many.

Another very interesting thing is that often insurance companies will pay for Viagra prescriptions and not for birth control pills. So what does that mean? We will pay for men to get it up and have sex but not for women to use protection?

It seems interesting to me that men want to have sex with or without their partner’s enjoyment. Of course this “boosting libido” drug for women has been invented as women must now in many cases have more sex with their husbands or partners due to Viagra. Of course it was invented by a man. Of course men believe there must be a flaw in women if they no longer desire their man. Of course the answer is another drug!

We are involved in the culture of returning to nature as in “slow food”. What happened to good old fashioned slow sex?

 There is an obvious way to make women more interested in having sex and it doesn’t involve taking a pill. It does, however, involve a mouth and a brain: the two most erotic body parts. The brain thinks of sensitive and loving things to say and the mouth says them. Got you there, didn’t I? I am serious about this. Why don’t men get this? They are not stupid, only penis centered. If they want more sex all they have to do is be thoughtful and loving to their partner and tune in to what she needs to make sex not only comfortable but enjoyable.

The most erotic thing to a woman is an offer of help, or, even better, helping without being asked. Now that is a turn on. I can’t believe how many women are still suffering in silence on this issue. The most erotic thing to me in a man is generosity: not just with money but with soul. There are a million books out on how to please a woman! Instead of buying or inventing a new drug to match Viagra why not invest in knowledge which will enrich your partnership? Why not enrich your partnership by becoming “other” focused rather than “it’s all about me!”Wouldn’t it be interesting if we lived in a matriarchy where the women were in charge and chose what to do and when to do it? If this were true, women readers, what would you do? I’ll say this; there were a lot fewer wars during matriarchies and a lot more great art, literature and poetry and I bet, GREAT SEX!

Dinner Party Conversation

Having a dinner party can change how you feel in the world. Just when things are heading south, a group of friends having fun can change that slippery slope. There is nothing quite as exhilarating as having people in your house who are having fun and you are the baton twirler. Many years ago I loved to give parties and we did it often. The parties seemed too long to me, however, and so I would disappear upstairs during the dessert phase and sometimes not reappear at all. It was never a conscious disappearance but I would find myself distracted upstairs by something I found interesting: a book perhaps or something I was writing, and I would forget there was a party going on downstairs. It never seemed to bother the guests as there was one member of the hosting couple there and everyone was so engaged in what they were up to.

            I am not sure why I did this but think, in retrospect, it had to do with my limited attention span for engagement with other human beings. It amazes me often how long people can engage in a social setting. Sometimes I see them standing there talking to others for what seems like hours to me. If I am a member of such a group I will back out of it much like a horse does wearing blinders coming out of a horse carrier. I can slither and back up as quickly as I need to. I am not sure where I developed this habit but think it may have been in school games which, needless to say, I always hated. I am claustrophobic: that’s all there is to it. There is a “but” in this statement. I am not claustrophobic when I am actively engaged in the conversation as I am very interested in the sound of words, the flow of conversation, and the ability of humans to make associations and jump from one idea to the next. I find this jumping very stimulating and have noticed some people can jump with me and others become stuck and do not see the relationship between the two conversations. I love minds that can keep up and keep on finding parallel thoughts no matter where we go. I can only do this sitting down, however.

I don’t know how people can speak while standing and sometimes for hours. I find trying to do this makes me speak only in superficial thoughts and I have little ability to think on a deeper plane. I hop from subject to subject and from foot to foot. I long for the cozy support of a nice chair so I can relax my body and really focus on what is going on between my conversational partner and me. I find that almost everything important there is to speak of in life is better spoken of while sitting down. So those are my thoughts on this lovely morning. Have a dinner party tonight!

I am waiting

I am waiting for the sound of my front gate

And the thump of the newspaper on the wet stone.

I am waiting for the second love bird to sing back to his partner

While they bathe in the still water fountain out back.

I am waiting for the slow grinding of the day to begin.

I am waiting for the light to come which seeps into all of us

Making the day real and the night, forgotten.

I think if I stay in these soft sheets dotted and sprinkled with flowers my Grandmother knew

I will skip the day as it needs me to carry on.

There are times when I trail a finger on the sheets as I arise

Reluctant  to let go.

Tracing a desire for stillness, blankness, only the sounds of the house

Marking the movement, keeping it, soothing me

Before the world begins again.

I dreamt I was taller

I dreamt I was taller…

Last night I dreamt I was taller and was so happy. In my dream I was standing on a doctor’s scale and had extended the height stick so I could show the doctor I had grown. I was surprised, myself, about this event. In my dream I felt more powerful and straighter and happy that I had grown taller. It made me feel as if I was going to be more successful in the world and that I looked infinitely younger.

I think I had the dream because I am finally emerging from a dark and enclosed cocoon of relative misery I have surrounded myself with over the past few months. While the world fell apart with environmental and economic disasters, I felt an extreme need to hide from everything and so I did. It seemed safer to remain at home, sequestered, and not venture out into the world much. I am interested to see that this period appears to be over.

This morning I applied for a job, planned three trips, and emailed people I have been out of touch with. Last night I went to an extraordinary place where I saw a collection of photographs that amazed me with their character and life. I was invited by a couple I have recently met and who are very interested in photography. They have collected an extraordinary group of photographs which captivate the observer. They are not in any ordinary museum, but rather in a space created especially for them by the couple.

I found this visit inspiring and am grateful to have been included in the group viewing these photographs. Mostly I am in awe of what life is offering me at the moment. From a vast and deserted wasteland I am now entering the excitement zone where anything is possible. I find myself meeting new and interesting people, planning trips to places I have always wanted to go to, and seeing opportunity rather than dismay.

Something has shifted in the world: it is as if all the old and bitter things have vanished from my vision and only the light is shining through. I still think life is not going to be what it was for most of us. I wouldn’t run out and invest in the market or buy a very fancy house, but I would take a look at whoever crossed my path and take the time to communicate with that person.

We are going to be presented with new opportunities now and these opportunities will be filled with wonder. I know our job is to accept these opportunities as gifts we must open and gratitude is the most welcoming and acceptable form of response.