power out in the hall / who ya gonna call

Learning to Revel: being useful edition (at Jones Hall)

I break out the tool box to wrench on the hot water / I burn my hands scrubbing plates / I hear it drip on the offbeats of the wall clock tick / I use its basin to house ringed five-in-the-morning-how-the-hell-do-I-spend-this-life-of-mine cups of coffee / I maneuver my $3 kettle under its spout / I spill half on its way out / I dress it in tea towels like I actually host guests / I live my mornings at the sink

Learning to revel: housework edition

Holder of keys, cough drop wrappers, earring backs. Keeper of the “shit, I forgot to do that” sticky notes. Sustainer of nail polish drips, coffee cup rings, and maverick pen marks. Believer in remembering, recalling, and reminding.
I am the mean girl in the classic, clichéd high school flick - breezing past your locker every day without a second glance, conning you into doing my homework under the guise of being a tutee. You are the catch-all plate on my end table. I am your abuser.

Learning to revel: the ‘scatterbrained without you’ edition (at the Home-Sweet)

boy, there’s just something about your damn good looks
that has me brackish and tame and stagnant water
on my knees and crawling

boy, there’s just something about your fighting spirit
that has me shaking and shooking my fists at the sky
passing whole nights spittin’, brawling