Greetings from my art studio! How’s life in your world?? I hope you’re enjoying a spectacular Summer! I just got back from a glorious few days in Malibu… definitely what I needed. I want to share some paintings with you of the sea, the rivers and the mountains. I find…

One Last Ride On the kitchen floor, in the house on Stonington Street, my sister and I played cardboard box cars. She’d always take the box with the handles punched out of either side saying it looked more like dad’s car and mine looked like the milk truck that Mr…

Like you, I’ve awakened to another day of desolation Unconvinced to sink further in, to step willingly into these quick sands. I too, have held my sorrow like a young birch roots in a deep rain Uncertain of my place, but alive. I wore my wounds under heavy sleeves and black boots to keep me from the endless lift offs I had so easily perfected. Like you, I stood prepared to fight an enemy that held my name,

Ice is forming on the tips of my wings, unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything. Can’t keep my mind from the circling skies, tongue-tied and twisted Just an earth-bound misfit, I ~ Learning to Fly, Pink Floyd My father was distressed. The grass he mowed last week was…

Red clay puddles Cast cold wooden trees Knock me over in my cemetery tracks A posse of good looking men Steal cigarette papers from the 7-Eleven And roll us up into oblivion My dungarees are heavy Waiting for my shoes to make the next move. © m. lonergan

Tumbling down side the silver pines A smile wide as the desert ravages me in one slow minute Moves me to shiver, to be giddy, to shine We don’t have to impress one another We’re comfortable on the sidewalks of our communal disgrace I sink down further and further Until they have to look up Up at me… © m. lonergan

Old In My Bones I must have passed 90 by the time I was in the 5th grade. My machete hard and gleaming, my winter coat leaking, my snow boots…

Molly Lonergan was the bane of my nine year old existence. A roadblock not even a Massachusetts statie could get through. Carved out of a chilly block of ice, she could have played for the Bruins and never gotten hurt. Phil Esposito in a housecoat with wavy silver hair. Rarely…

“Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine. Meltin’ in a pot of thieves, wild card up my sleeve, thick heart of stone, my sins my own, they belong to me, me! People say “beware!” …