Dance Craze

My latest collection, Dance Craze, came out in 2020. The paperback is available at Amazon for the AMAZING price of $8.00 — for 100 pages of poems. How can you go wrong?

About Dance Craze

Dance Craze is a diverse collection of poems, full of mischief and whimsy and ranging from irreverent to fanciful to quirky. “I was a girl with a fondness for fiction,” the narrator tells us, “eager and willing to suspend disbelief.” And later, “I was verbal and fertile. I skipped and skirted and circled. Put my faith in cut and run.” These poems tell of romantic foibles and felicities, as well as a dead ex-husband who shows up at the door wanting to party. The narrator, who is “capable of staggering languor,” says, “I’m a little beyond the bend of the river, a little up the road from put together.” But she’s also able to sing an ode to missteps and faux pas, and finally, to listen to her heart “like a golden oldie.”

Sample Poems


As far back as I can see,
there’s no one coming, just
a long stretch of Iowa road
unwinding behind me. No trace
of what I’m leaving—a house
I need to believe is full of absence.
We always made love in the dark
in case we needed to pretend
it hadn’t happened.

Dry grass and rusted fences
rush by like bad memories.
I have to keep reminding myself
that I’m the one in motion.

This road’s so straight, all I can do
s accelerate, watch for a sign,
an exit. Still, from time to time,
I adjust the rearview mirror as if
I might catch sight of you, crazy
with pain and desire and change
of heart, gaining on me.


Imagine Me

The way I float the current
of your thoughts, take you swiftly
or by slow meander, the way
I can appear in any doorway
backlit by lamplight

the way I drop hints as casually
as articles of clothing, my easy
mouth full of red wine
and white lies, my arms open,
my agenda hidden

the way I lead you from question
to question, resist resolution
elude the obvious answer.
Imagine me one thing,
then another.


Kitchen Two-Step

We aim for balance:
two bowls, two spoons, two hungers.
A small, simple meal.

A subtle art, this
pas de deux. Nimbly we step
around one another.

One deftly handles
the knife, while the other cries
over the onions.

We take turns checking
the pot, adjusting the flame
so nothing boils over.

One has an instinct
for how much pepper to add—
and is always right.

Sometimes, we glance up
and notice one another
smiling for no reason.

Across the kitchen
you’re oh, so busy
doing your waggle dance.

This way to the nectar,
you signal. I follow your lead
straight to dessert.