by Katharine Kaufman | Nov 27, 2018 | today
I’ve never told anyone this before, the guest says to Terri Gross. I lean into the kitchen counter, turn up the radio. Here comes the reveal: The world class chef sometimes eats Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwiches for supper. Oh. ~...
by Katharine Kaufman | Nov 7, 2018 | today
At the suicide prevention training class, the teacher says; Who in this room has ever considered suicide? I raise my hand quickly. And one other person. Everyone swivels to face us. Hasn’t everyone wondered? I say. Doesn’t the person who thinks, sometimes think, I...
by Katharine Kaufman | Sep 30, 2018 | today
“And when it reached the open door love itself was gone.” ~ Leonard Cohen At the tree park I can hear the high school game. At home I can hear it. It’s night and September and I’m sweating. The crowd chants together in boosts, along with drums. ~ I carry...
by Katharine Kaufman | May 24, 2018 | today
After great pain, a formal feeling comes – * ~Emily Dickinson The shock of the announcement runs through my body. I wake at three or so on alternate nights and stay awake. The other nights the book falls out of my hands and words on the page mix with dream images....
by Katharine Kaufman | Mar 28, 2018 | today
Fall 1985. Boulder. Driving down 9th street to Danelle Helander’s Friday afternoon technique class. I think I won’t be able to make it through class on the cigarette and coffee with milk I had for lunch. Eyes on road, left hand on wheel, right hand reaches to floor of...
