Switch
Springtime and everything switches on, electric song of peepers and honeysuckle. Nature’s extraordinary reboot.
Katherine’s Coffeehouse
Food Stamps and Underwear
A draft by Katherine Gotthardt
When asked about holes in my underwear, why it’s taking up space in my drawer, I ask instead
if pink isn’t my color.
More Haiku for National Poetry Month 2023
As we wrap up the month, here are some more small offerings.
Quincy Market (a draft)
Dankness of the parking garage.
First level always, because
my father liked to be early.
Ashby
Massachusetts, Circa 1988 I am thinking about the first time anyone heard the word computer. Was it like when I learned what Windows was? Or how a GPS could magically take me anywhere I wanted without getting lost? No more need to stop in for maps I’d never fold back in their envelopes. Those required …
Mistake
-Katherine Gotthardt I am thinking of my last mistake. Not the previous one. The one that will do me in. The one that will cut through pieces of my life like a butcher on amphetamines. Uncareful. Uncaring. Unbelievable. I read the story of the poor man who got pulled onto train tracks by a dog …
Search History
-Katherine Gotthardt
This morning and I’m thinking
of the wolpertinger,
shy but fierce creature
of the night.
Bavarian, so it sounds exotic.
