Hope leaked out of the lunch bin, into my laptop bag, messing up the expected. What is this new Monday marked on my calendar with a sticky note? Read closely: Renewal has arrived. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
Monday Morning Revival Read More »
Always up a hill smell of heaviness and hay the elephant house -Katherine Gotthardt #KatherinesCoffeehouse
These dark, autumn mornings, and yesterday’s indifferent rain, the calendar bothered by subsiding sun, and some made up bullshit – daylight savings. You can’t save something that isn’t there. You can’t simply rename time, expecting it to change. What is this, politics? Spin it and it’s true? Today is Monday. It’s dark at six, morning
Fear is an ugly book cover. Crack open the spine. Read past the first chapter. Decide if it’s fiction. Or faction. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
Statement of the Times Read More »
It’s why I didn’t squash the horsefly, merely walked back inside. It’s why I captured the rat, freed it in the field, let the vultures hold jury. It’s why I stepped over the snake. It’s why when you said that, sure, I was taken aback. But more, I knew I would not
I’m afraid of ostriches. Not metaphorical ones (though head in the sand can be worse than a rotting pecan disguised on a praline pie – take one bite and see how quick reality happens). No, I mean real ostriches, with their spaghetti legs and avocado heads and Jello salad wiggle-walk. And the way they run,
By the John Brown museum, vulture bothering something long dead. “Where would your loyalty lie?” reads the placard. I recall, suddenly, that we’re all animals, that early autumn sun is still hot, and wax can melt on a sidewalk. Be careful where you step. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
Wax Museum, Harpers Ferry Read More »
Through the back window, I saw the first yellow leaf of fall, as I gathered your fur that’s been collecting in the corner. My friend, I am not used to the idea that you are dying. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
How blunt the scissors used too often. Want to stay sharp? Use only when needed. Refrain from grinding edges, trying to snip tense cord or wire. These are scissors, for god’s sake. Who do you think you are? #KatherinesCoffeehouse
Are you starving yet? Has your stomach turned blue and black, inside out with hunger? Have you bruised your back working for enough just to feed your children? Have you tilled until night fell, sweating and swearing, and in between the hell of hay and grieving home, consoled yourself with an ancient hum? Is your
