Just got my copy of Pudding Magazine: The Journal of Applied Poetry, Vol. 66, in the mail today and found a review of Letting Go featured in it. Thanks so much to Managing Editor Connie Willett for her fair and favorable assessment of my book!

I just learned that two of my poems, “Tijuana” and “Breathing Room,” have been accepted for WAVES: A Confluence of Women’s Voices, an anthology that will be published by A Room of Her Own Foundation. It is an honor to be included.

June 17’s reading at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Lima with some of my UU poetry peeps, Jacob King, Carla Thompson, and Anne Edwards, and others who took the mic was a wonderful experience, as always. We had a good turnout and perfect porch weather.

My first reading for the book at Happy Bean Coffee in Mt. Vernon, OH, joined by my friends Carla Thompson and Jacob King. Sponsored by the Ohio Poetry Association, the event was emceed by Mark Hersman, Vice President. Such a treat and an honor to be featured. I even sold some books!

Remember when he says, “The new phone books are here! The new phone books are here!” in The Jerk? That’s how I felt today when Letting Go finally arrived in the mail. “The new poetry books are here! The new poetry books are here!” Now what do I do with all of them? Promote them and sell them, I guess. I’ll be learning as I go, and will keep you posted on how it goes!

The manager of the Barnes & Noble at the University of Northwestern Ohio, where I teach, has ordered my book and asked me to do a book signing once they receive it. Of course, I said yes. Maybe they’ll even let me do a reading!

Publication has been delayed a couple of months (until late April), but I just received the second set of galleys for final approval, so we’re making progress.

You cannot tell the ripeness from its color

must press the flesh with your thumb

graze your fingertip across its skin

feel it give under gentle pressure

breathe in the scent of peach and honey

run the blade to cleave the fruit

along each cheek

try not to nick the pit

score diamonds into flesh

turn each lobe inside out

scrape morsels from skin with your teeth

nibble around the slippery pit

then gnaw it to get the last bits

juice running down to your elbows

dripping down your chin.

So excited that Finishing Line  Press made “Letting Go” their Book of the Day. They’ve helped me every step of the way toward publication. It feels good to have my inspiration and perspiration come to fruition!

Southern California unwinds like a filmstrip

Unreels when we cross the border in the mint green Edsel

Men run into the street to meet my father and meLe

Wave their arms and say, “Senor! Senorita!”

He gets out to make a deal

Fifty dollars for new upholstery

Twenty for a new set of rims

He ends with a joke about us getting married

They laugh. I look at the ground.

On the street I look at the pinatas and sombreros

Embroidered with the name of the city

Serapes woven with yarn in colors not found in nature

My father sees a purse like his cowboy boots,

Ostrich skin with dimples where their feathers were plucked

Like the pimples pushing through my skin

And the hairs above my lip that I’m starting to pull out with

Tweezers like tiny forceps.

He sees me eyeing a silver bracelet inset with abalone flowers

Says to the cashier, “She’ll take this one,”

Slams it on the glass counter

I flinch

He pays for it

Clamps it to my wrist.

We walk past darkened bars

Disinfectant wafting from open doors

But my father buys his tequila on the street

Where we eat tacos full of meat and beans

Let the juice dribble into the wrappers and down our arms

And don’t speak.

Going back we see a man

With no hands and no feet

He sits on a cart with a can that says, “Please”

I reach down, and my bracelet sounds like

Money in his cup

My father walks on.