Katherine's Coffeehouse

Thoughts, drafts and poetry in progress. Take a sip.

#KatherinesCoffeehouse

 

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The World Has Changed from when I Last Was Here

I want to tell you things look different now, more early morning, more finch
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What Gets Me Through

And if I have to be transparent,
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Backstories

Even dandelions have backstories, if you think long enough about your past. How when you were supple
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Messaging

Sunday morning. Persistent cardinal at the front window.
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I Do Not Know the Name of this Town

And I would like to label it just a bad mood, this feeling of being closed in, trapped by failing bone and muscle and a system set tightly around the rich and healthy. Except
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Picking Up

I have spent far too many moments picking up what does not belong to me. Random pieces

I Was Okay Until I Found Her Collar

Moving inherently means sorting through the ages, opening trunks

I Do Not Know Which Days I Am Celebrating

It was Trapper Keepers and binders, the smell of vinyl, paper, and chalk, how the window sounded cracked open, because September can still be warm. And whenever I
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I Am Not That Poet

Or perhaps you picture a black-clad student in back of class, wilting on the drug of the day, carving punked out words into a silent desktop.
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Classic Rock

Wide eye open, top of the pyramid scheme, stairway to some kind of heaven. Or did you think.
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