Jaclynn Loibl

Subbing Support

I was precisely what the underappreciated hair-in-a-bun, visor-wearing sandwich artist needed. “You aren’t the problem.” I said, shaking my head, “That’s all them.” Hearing how the previous customer’s outburst impacted her, all for enforcing the policy of not accepting cash over $50, I couldn’t help myself. I hope my reassuring words counterbalanced the negative interaction.Continue reading “Subbing Support”

Thank You For Being A Friend

I drop in here like the YouTube yoga instructor so gently reminds me each day in practice. I take it to mean releasing the past, focusing, and tuning into the now. A slight buzz exists in my chest area, it’s tight, so I follow my breath also like she instructs. I pause, breathe three times,Continue reading “Thank You For Being A Friend”

Cart Bangers

I’m in love with one of my ducks, a chocolate milk colored one, that waggles her tail at me after I clean her coop and whistles a sweet tone whenever I come near. She’s twice sat, allowing me to stroke her silky feathers, strengthening our bond. A wise one is she; I’m trekking vegetables outContinue reading “Cart Bangers”

Boss Stage Healing

At recess in 5th, maybe 6th grade, I used to jump rope double-dutch. If you’ve never held your hands up to catch the rhythm of the ropes, rushed into the eye of the slapping lasso, stutter-stepped until panting, then raced out to survive the whip of the cord, you’ve missed quite a thrill, as wellContinue reading “Boss Stage Healing”

We Are Family

It’s a day when loose-leafed trash blusters about the neighborhood. A street light flashes like a red carpet to a rave but is likely nothing more than a wire come undone. I’m wet-headed, a product of a late-night out hot tubbing with friends. I’m nudging myself to unclench muscles and to use frustration and irritationContinue reading “We Are Family”

He Ain’t Heavy

I nag myself away from colorful curtains on Pinterest to write. About what I have yet to find, but like animals to the call of the wild from the open page, I cannot myself deny. I’m in the market for crushed-up oyster shells, their rich calcium content is a need for my duck’s egg production.Continue reading “He Ain’t Heavy”

Cluh Mot Toe

Hoping to coax the hiding vulnerability in myself out, I ask, “What do you want to write about?” I set aside my need for a jaw-dropping, knee-slapping post and sit down cross-legged. Turning down the expectation dial, I lean back and follow the texture on the ceiling, clearing my mind and allowing space to form.Continue reading “Cluh Mot Toe”

Intimacy’s Devilish Dance: A Poem

Shrouded with barbed wire, we trudge the land of the untouchable. Enter At Your Own Risk, the scalding caldrons seem to say, oozing forth with frothing anticipation. A Venus Fly Trap, its tendrils hypnotize and tempt, then snap tight its kill. A funhouse mirror twists the thin to swirly and morphs whispers to screams. AContinue reading “Intimacy’s Devilish Dance: A Poem”

Butterfly In The Sky

How enamoring are butterflies; their vulnerable fluttering, expansive display of color and the jaw-dropping carwash change from dull walkers to acrobatic artists. Cinderella, the Ugly Duckling, She’s All That, and Grease. There’s nothing like a good ol’ transformation from rags to riches or fugly to beautimous that we can’t help but stand and slam ourContinue reading “Butterfly In The Sky”

Mortality’s Knock

I’m building a Leggo block house with extra high walls to prevent monsters, and additional protection is “pew” guns that shoot thorns for the girl and her cat. Three-year-old Evelyn’s imagination is brilliant. Out of practice are my cat whisperer chops, and I’m scrambling to think of how to make my cousin’s cats feel moreContinue reading “Mortality’s Knock”