Once, I Saw a Soldier
Once, there,
I saw a soldier,
leaning against a barren tree,
Once, I Saw a Soldier Read More »
Once, there,
I saw a soldier,
leaning against a barren tree,
Once, I Saw a Soldier Read More »
Help me not be normal.
Help me when I am in formidable first grade,
counting my fingers under my desk because math is hard
and there’s too much talk from inside out and every last word
barges into my brain the way you did my bedroom
Help Me Not Be Normal Read More »
i dreamt last night
i hid in an elevator
molding my back
into angles and steel
Nightmare in Suburban America Read More »
I’ve decided it’s a birdcall,
not the Canada goose
I will be in the life
I live after my next, more
like the mourning dove,
What Betrayal Feels Like Read More »
We aren’t much to look at, we poets, unless you look very closely, which most aren’t wont to do. It’s not that they don’t get us. They just don’t have time for us, missing the chance to see the blue feathered heron, one pencil-lead leg fixed in the sludge of the runoff in the morning.
They say the hands will do what the heart has felt. Not knowing who they are (might be indigenous wisdom or merely a good meme from Facebook) I immediately think of hitting hands, because I clearly recall anger in fingers that had touched too much of life, the plated skin on their palms, ridged at
What They Say about Hands – a draft Read More »
By Katherine M. Gotthardt
Last night I dreamt again you appeared,
thin and limping after what I could have sworn
was your final parting, last heavy sigh and whimper,
all of us laying hands on your haunches, private room
with wordless music, pet pictures, candles. And as always