You Can’t Keep The House Your Daughter Was Born In

You Can’t Keep The House Your Daughter Was Born In

Remember that night, as my midwife Ghuru B, a tiny woman from Chicago, smiled at me? I was on all fours on the bed and mooing like a cow in distress. I knocked my tea mug over, the stain spreading down the wall, while my husband pressed the spot on my back to suppress the pain. And finally after twelve hours of labor, she was born.

Houston and New York and Budapest

Houston and New York and Budapest

 

I once had a friend named Jules Dunay, and Jules was gay,

and I was a little in love with Jules Dunay.

Looking Towards Hathersage

Looking Towards Hathersage

I pause in my daily walk along the edge of the English town I live in and gaze across a soon-to-be-developed meadow and on towards the hills of Derbyshire

A Landscape Where There Are No Toilets

“Jimmy!”  I shout into the phone, “I’m looking out the window at my front lawn at an honest-to-God human turd!