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I came to meditation through Elizabeth Gilbert and the Hare Krishnas, which should tell you something about me.

A short expression of gratitude for a particular dress, and a polite request.

Four haiku for a redhead on a train.

A love song to a woman on the subway.

A sex-blogger kerfuffle, in which I insert myself where I may not be welcome.

A brief meditation on spelling and ejaculation.

A dreaded task, a hard cock, and the rabbit hole between them.

Slowing down here so I can write elsewhere. The blog will still be here. So will I.

Gossip made me feel icky. I wish I could say that’s because I’m above it.