RachelVB.com

Category: wandering mind

  • A winter day before Halloween

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    rachelvb
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    I woke up to your baleen lashes filtering visions. Eyes bouncing back and forth underneath skin’s thin layer. I wondered what dreams you were scanning and if a small sliver of your lid would open to reveal a human white – not pure, but threaded with veins. I saw where your iris lay – a…

  • Sera-sera

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    rachelvb
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    I was going to carve my pumpkins today, but since it’s snowing 3-7 inches of snow, I think I’ll just bypass Halloween altogether and sit in fleece and try to keep my feet warm. I baked an Apple bunt cake with cream cheese filling this morning and half of it fell apart when I plopped…

  • Underdog

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    rachelvb
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    You came back to push me again. You look old, strangely like your mother. You look older than me, but maybe I look old, too, and don’t know it. I don’t belong in your high society, you’ve made that pretty clear. I’m not good enough for you, talented enough for you, an artist like you.…

  • Made in China

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    rachelvb
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    I’m feeling inadequate today and then oddly inspired and wanting to run run. Walking in the rain to the library, I avoided small puddles on the wrong side of things, knowing even spit would seep into my shoes and get my white socks wet. I wear white socks. Man white socks. My boyfriend hates it…

  • My hand is out for you

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    rachelvb
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    I plucked an eyelash crop in my sleep. Wishes wet and unmoved, I watched a tree blush with Winter’s proposal. A white terrier barked behind glass. I couldn’t hear a word, but it seemed important he reach someone who wasn’t there. His body jumped with each howl. I’m afraid my girls are lonely. Last night,…

  • Bottle Beach

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    rachelvb
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    “Have you heard of Bottle Beach?” my mom asked in an email. Go to this blog, she said and like a single clue to a treasure hunt, I clicked, followed and am in love. More in love with the bottles waiting than the odd history of Brooklyn’s Dead Horse Bay: “It was during this era,…

  • Bumble bee with a duct-taped stinger

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    rachelvb
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    It all hurts – my elbowed nose, my cleated calf, my strained hip-flexor, wobbly ankles, sore arches, tick-like bruise under my toenail. Soccer is a brutal sport. Soccer against men is a viking battle, mauling orcs and especially brutal when one smells like the dregs of a gym bag left in a sweltering car for…

  • Peanutbutter on sourdough toast

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    rachelvb
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    Reminds me of California – of being home. Weekend mornings wandering the backyard. We had a wooden bench made from driftwood plopped in the middle of sweet peas and artichokes. I’d peer through the holes in the fences, see what the neighbors were up to. The devocalized greyhound straining for his voice again, the golden…

  • on the line

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    rachelvb
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    I’m having trouble coming back – to work, to writing, to stringing laundry across a thin rope in fall. I’m in a strange shifting stage – another morph perhaps, a skin shedding. I feel like I need to learn how to write all over again. Does anyone have a process that sticks – really sticks?…

  • Who knows?

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    rachelvb
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    Ivy swallows a telephone pole. From the bottom up green palms turning red with fall surround wires and circuits, 3 silver drums. In the end, in the end end nature overcomes everything. Sprouts through concrete. Green tufts through bricks. Why do we keep trying to mow, pluck, prune, contain the things we will become? Everyone…