It’s a hell of a thing to know that once you have to move, you can never come back again. That this is the last place you will ever live, in San Francisco, the City that you love and that you’ve given so much to. Having already chosen a life

This morning I woke up to the news that Maya Angelou had died. She was an amazing human and an incredible writer, so I wanted to go back and read my favorite poem of hers, “Still I Rise”. When I googled it, the piece came up on Poem Hunter, so

The very lovely ladies at Sex+Design Magazine asked me to take part in the very first Red Light Lit: Erotic tales told by folks you wouldn’t kick out of bed. I’m honored and excited to read a few poems from the book of poetry I’ve been (very slowly) working on for

Me: I think I’m actually going to post about being romantic. She: Now that’s something I’d like to read… People love to fit things, especially other people, into boxes. It makes sense. We understand the world through contrast and binary. If something’s not good, it’s: ______. If something’s not hot,

I’m a big ol’ fan of celebrations: parties, holidays, the “happy dance” that I perform in my room after I do my laundry and realize that I don’t have to wear ratty underpants anymore.  It doesn’t take much for me to throw my arms up in the air, and praise

I don’t make it to Glen Park often, but for what is coming up at Bird & Beckett that may just change. Les Gottesman, poet, and Bill Crossman, poet and musician, will be reading poetry inspired by our world following the events of 9/11. I would expect both Les and

Once again, it’s time for my street to come alive with all of the colorful characters (and not to mention outfits) that turn up on Fillmore during their bi-annual Art Walk. This Friday night, from 6 pm-midnight, Fillmore St. will be booming with art, life, music, drinks and people. Hosted