I’ve got nothing tonight.  The writing well is completely dry and I am watching the moments tick-tock closer to my midnight deadline.  Desperately searching for an idea, I look around and remember that I’ve got you…

after 13 years,

your phone voice still flips my heart switch

and my car being started every day makes up for the forgetting of my birthday

you are beyond my eye rolls

and within my silence

tonight, you are my idea


I read the word felled and fell in love immediately.

Prior to finding this gorgeous word in a poem, I had never gifted a fall the linguistic freedom to transform to felled, feller or felling.  My overbearing sense of hearing had never allowed it to be seen, tasted, smelled or touched beyond it’s logical syntax.

I am quite sure I have been felled many times –  knocked out, struck down, cut out – we all have.  I am more interested in the moves it takes to become un-felled.

Negative theology has been on my mind and has led me to the concept of –un.  To discover my unfelled self,  I will have to explore all the things I am not.  I will have to discern the blurriness of my being, and I will have to open the dichotomy of my own heart.

Most importantly, I will have to resist my attachment to life’s grammar.

Until March 2,

Allyn Lea