A Taste…

Here’s just a tiny selection —
a taste 
— of 43+ years of writing and performing.
You can imagine how much more there is…

It is in those silent moments
that hushed and shimmering space
That we truly discover one another

— Cherie James, EROTICA

There is a ritual when I remove my clothes ... I tell the stories of my scars

— Lani Kaahumanu,  BODY IMAGE

51 year old woman — looks 50
Desires to meet another neurotic
Can be any age, but must look 50

— Susan Samson Parness, AGING

My nipples have a memory of their own
And tingle remembering a hungry baby


an ancient vessel
I am
wood and stone
carved rough and smooth
by the cold hand of days

— Bea Lieberman, AGING

In the cluttered bedroom
Where stars leak in
I bid my heart goodbye

— Pat Coleman, EROTICA

I want to run with the wolves…
But I am just a woman who walks —
with arch supports!

— Ruth Hurvitz, FRAGMENTS

I needed someone to touch me first
I needed someone to say yes without my asking


Oh what a world when your specs are lost!
It seems a bit unkind
When the things that you need to find them with
Are the things that you need to find!

— Judith Masur, LOST AND FOUND

Dying Mother
a daughter's tears
Crashed like splintered glass

— Barbara McCall, CANCER

I am possessed by my parents.
I am their possession.

I am not supposed to have my own thoughts
or feelings
I am to do what they say
“because they say so”
I am not to disagree
“Don’t you ever dispute my word”


— Afy Downey,

When  was young, so very young
A girl of 17 or so
“the question” always haunted me:
Why was I here on this green earth?
What was the purpose of my life?
And so for four long tedious years
I searched the philosophic maze
this hairsplitting by famous men
and I emerged no wiser than before.
And now that I am old, no answers yet,
but somehow “whys” and “shoulds” have long been laid to rest.
I am old and now I truly understand
How sweet life is at living’s end.

— Ruth Michaels, MEMORIAL SCRIPT