klt: the blog

If Donald Trump Grabbed My Pussy: A Poem

If Donald Trump Grabbed My Pussy: A Poem

Donald Trump thinks I would let him grab my pussy because he is a “star” because he has money because he has gotten away with this kind of abuse before. He would be wrong. If you think that my political views make me weak or out of touch with reality, Let me assure you: I...

Being 30

Being 30

Three is a lucky number. Thirty is ten threes. Ten threes may not be as lucky as nine threes or even six or three threes, but still. It’s lucky. I used to dread turning 30, but then I turned 27. 28. 29. Time creeps forward, whether we’re paying attention or not. So I choose to...

My dogs are not my children

My dogs are not my children

Lately I’ve been thinking about metaphors. Specifically metaphors like, “My pets are my children,” or “My writing is my baby.” I can understand, almost, why people use these metaphors. Having children is a monumental step that reorders your entire life. Your world basically revolves around your children, because they need you to survive. Plus, they...

Procrastination, guilt, and dread

Procrastination, guilt, and dread

Procrastination is weird. The more you put something off, the guiltier you feel and the more you dread it. It turns an ant hill into a mountain, every time. And yet I still do procrastinate. Not always on purpose—sometimes I’m tired or my head hurts and my brain is fuzzy. But that dread builds up...

Copper and ceramic

Copper and ceramic

Slowly, in fits and starts, we’re turning our house into a home. Renovating a house feels a lot like writing fiction, actually. You start with something raw and unfinished, and you slowly polish it until it shines, until it’s yours. My house is starting to shine. The pieces are coming together: paint, new (and used,...