The World Has Changed from when I Last Was Here
By Katherine Gotthardt |
I want to tell you things
look different now, more
early morning, more finch
Backstories
By Katherine Gotthardt |
Even dandelions have backstories,
if you think long enough about your
past. How when you were supple
I Do Not Know the Name of this Town
By Katherine Gotthardt |
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
Picking Up
By Katherine Gotthardt |
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
By Katherine Gotthardt |
Moving inherently means sorting
through the ages, opening trunks
I Do Not Know Which Days I Am Celebrating
By Katherine Gotthardt |
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
I Am Not That Poet
By Katherine Gotthardt |
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.
Classic Rock
By Katherine Gotthardt |
Wide eye open, top
of the pyramid scheme,
stairway to some kind
of heaven. Or did you think.