Eve Rounds

positivity in materialism


i tend to agree with thoreau. simplicity exposes contentment.

we all have entirely too much stuff.

but there are those few objects that bring us joy. guaranteed. that can’t be wrong…

accelerating and shifting and weaving with my 50th anniversary addition bonneville, ARBITA, puts a smile on my face like nothing else. it’s the speed. it’s the sound. it’s knowing that i look as sexy as i feel. i am a bad ass.

but more than that, it’s a freedom. i part ways with perception. what a gift to have time and space. free will takes me to the cigar shop, the bakery and anywhere else i damn well please.


arbita rests

a poem about you for you (and you)

you are your own though your temperament reminds me of him your head is more ripe mango while his was more soft plum my love

i don’t even know

how long it’s been. haven’t been counting days haven’t counted backwards on the calendar. haven’t bothered to reread my own words. haven’t been missing you

the five senses

your blue eyes and crooked lippy smile which i inherited that tiny soft bristle brush for your basically bald head the white corvette a campfire cards


what did falling in love feel like to you actual falling a new winter sweater a blood flutter did you question its science or were you


sometimes the wind the waves muffle and drown my memories sometimes the wind the waves magnify and amplify the sound of your voice and clearing

the theatre

this is  a silent film flickering  catching  starting over emptiness surrounding such a blinding contrast ahead of us shared stories  captured images disconnected nonsensical we