You don’t need me for this one…
But I was thinking about it
And I kept thinking about it
This weekend as I was observing people and listening to their stories and conversations …

I saw how often we apologise
Or explain ourselves….

So here we are…
This is not a poem about 2020
Because, I don’t have to tell you, we won’t always be here, our lives move far beyond this year…
This is about you…
You don’t have to explain yourself
You don’t have to make excuses,
You are not a poem
Your body does not fit inside the margins
You are not a school dress code
You are a woman
And you can stand for equality
And still wear makeup
Or don’t
You are still a woman
You can start your own business
You can wear lingerie and lipstick only for your partner
Because it turns them on
And still stand for equality

Have sex when you want

Lose your virginity when you want

Wear the dress, the shorts,

Because it makes you feel good

It doesn’t make you any less
You can work out just for you
You can date a girl
You can dress up or dress down
And you can do whatever you want and whatever makes you feel good about yourself
Do it for you…
You don’t need me to write this poem, I know that, but I grew up with sisters and all of my best friends were women
And I just noticed how we often hesitate and feel ashamed about ourselves,and feel like we are not doing our best…and we are not authentic somehow…
But the truth is …
You don’t have to be the same person you were five years ago
Or two minutes ago
And the same things may not even turn you on …
The same clothes
The same food
The same job
You can change
You can grow
That’s what life is
Even Nora Ephron said,
You may write down today
That you are a mother
And five years from now
Write down that you are a writer …
So remember
Being a feminist
Standing for equality
Being a human
Does not have to look a certain way …
You are more than all of those receipts and labels …
You are more than this poem …
You are – You- a woman- a life – a piece of the universe – walking among us…

Most of all

You are your own …

Fully completely your own


Maybe there’s a moment

Maybe there’s a chance

Maybe there’s an open road

Where you can

Drive to rest


I know you’ve been here before

I know you watched all the leaves

Let go

A silent pain

Finally relieved

Quiet like poetry

Behind closed eyes


And if I am that broken

Just sweep me to the side

I will come back

In the winter

With the snow and ice

After the mud and rain

When everything is new


And maybe even I

Won’t recognise myself


I won’t remember

This pain

This lonely



There is a moment


There is a chance

Early in the morning

When the light is just right

The mountains let go

Of the trees

And all of their bleeding hearts

Change colour

A silent pain

Finally relieved

Quiet like poetry

I write

Behind my closed eyes



Summer storms
Building energy
Time and space
Shattered smiles
Worn out miles
Held breath
across the room
Electric energy
Corners of her smile
On shadow
Skin on skin
Electric finger tips
Hot language
Heavy air
Held breath
A thousand miles
Shattered skies
Rain on the window
Held breath
Hand in hand
Silk sheets
Bit lips
A thousand galaxies
On the corner of her lips
Shadow on shadow
Come apart
Read like
In my hands
On my tongue
Summer storm
Built up energy
Come on out
Let yourself go
Fall apart
Come again


Dear you

I know I should be fine now

But when you’re friends for 15 years

It’s hard to get over

I guess I still see you

When I walk through parts of this house

That’s what work is isn’t it?

A form of a house?

You spend more time there than you do anywhere else

I stop sometimes and I can remember you getting so angry over the stupidest things

I remember the conversation we had

The day before you died

And I just wanted you to know

I finally got out

I’m changing cities

I won’t die in this house

I know you would be proud

Sometimes I can’t sleep

And I watch the morning

I wish I could tell you things

Tell you things for real

I just want you to know

I’m ok now

I’m ok

And even when I’m not

I’m ok


Beagle in the City #286

Ethan: Simon, hey, Simon, check this out. I found a documentary about poets.

Simon: What? No, I’m good, you’re a good poet.

Ethan: Simon come on man. I have chicken fingers. I’ll even make pie.

Simon: I’m sleeping. Good night.

Ethan: ….

Ethan: Hey Francis!

France: Yo, whassup wait is that pie?

Ethan: you want to watch this poetry documentary with me?

Francis: You know I’m always down to make fun of your profession.

Ethan: It’s not a profession, I don’t even get paid.

Francis: You really don’t have to make it easier. Just leave it like it is. I already told you I’m gonna watch the show with you.

Ethan: we can watch what you want next.

Francis: The aristocrats

Ethan: Again, it’s Cats- Aristocats

lettres de passion #3

Where does the sun Go to rest? It’s mid July And already Winter…

y a-t-il un mot
pour le souffle entre chaque baiser

(is there a word
for the breath between each kiss)

it’s an ocean of stars
Inside that moment

neige en juillet
(Snow in July)

Your eyes

This sky

Everything is fleeting


But you
We know these things
Every moment fleeting
Is eternal
We’re present
taste the fruit
The wine

Is there a word?
For that?
It’s unspoken
Only felt
In every embrace
Every kiss
Every time our hands touch