E.M. Sanchez and the Broken Bird Feeder

Mysteries and tuna are two of P.I. Sanchez’s favorite things, but not necessarily in that order. Teamed up with her partner Web, the famous yellow bird, there isn’t a case in nature these two can’t solve. In the first of this new children’s series, the duo take on a case of a broken bird feeder in the community. Can they solve the mystery and still find enough time for E.M. Sanchez to nap? Find out November 23, 2021! Pre-order at your local bookstore today!

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

With the start of a new year, I am happy to announce that I’ve got several projects in the works. While a few may take years, others may be out in 2021! It all depends on how busy I remain at my back-up job of bookselling. The first book that might make it to the shelves this year will be another collection of poetry called She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not. This is a poem that will be in the collection and to be honest, one of my favorites so far. Enjoy!

Mother Nature’s Divorce

She’s hopeless, you know.
How many times has She
tried to kick him out now?
He keeps saying he’ll change,
the lying drunk,
the destructive fuck.

“I’ll do better,
You’ll see.
I’ll clean up my act,
I’ll plant a tree.”

His flowery language
sure to wilt
by the last breath
of his drastic lilt.

She got mad, sure.
She threw it all at him,
the vase, the heat,
the viral masterpiece.
He dodged left, then right,
then finally brought to his knees,
his face, a mask, of death,
uttered words to please.

“I love You, it’s true,
I couldn’t live without You.”

I keep hoping She’ll change
because I know without a doubt,
She could be surprised
at what She can live without.

©Autumn Siders 2020

#tbt

I like the grass,
but I don’t want to fertilize it.
Some other corpse
can do the job.

Me, I’d rather burn
than take up any more space
on this overpopulated sphere.

But for now,
I’m here,
so I best help the grass from above
while this future corpse
still contains some love.

© Autumn SIders 2017

Fog

Clouds float off the ground,
with the hope of rising again
only to settle down
and trap us in a pen.
The thickness that surrounds
leaves droplets on our skin
and visibility is scarce
letting mother nature win.
The sun will rise tomorrow
and soon the fog will lift
and the clouds they will remember
what it feels like just to drift.

© Autumn Siders 2018