by Katharine Kaufman | Dec 24, 2020 | today
When I was in the hospital, four months ago today, I was lying face up in my hospital bed looking at two things, a white board with various names and numbers written and erased on it, and above the white board,a large clock. I could also see the door to the right...
by Katharine Kaufman | Nov 24, 2020 | today
In the story the mermaid meets up with a fisherman a few times. The wish for her to be on land with actual legs is granted. Initially it works out for them, but the trouble is, with each step she feels sharp pains, like stepping on knives. She longs for the sea. She’s...
by Katharine Kaufman | Sep 28, 2020 | today
I reach up, open the screen door, and slide the stop flap in place. The gesture is a clue for the dogs that it’s time to come inside. But since my fracture they know I’m slower, and care less if they’re in or out. And they’re timid. The crutches are strange. New...
by Katharine Kaufman | Jul 9, 2020 | today
Sittin’ on a pin, too tired to get up Johnny Watson I’m standing, after...
by Katharine Kaufman | May 11, 2020 | today
Out my window it’s raining and if I were to walk outside I would be in the rain, and I think of the short poem by William Carlos Williams, that you probably know. I wondered why the word barrow was separated out in the poem, from wheel. I only now discovered barrow...
