Life and Death

Sometimes I am sitting in a chair with my mouth open, and someone I barely know is yanking at my tooth.   Sometimes I move freely about the kitchen, watching almond milk move in small heaps and bubbles.   I cut lilacs from the neighbor’s yard.   I tell...

Freedom

When I was in high school, I went to an outdoor concert in Concord, Mass that lasted all night. It’s so crowded I can’t get in to the porta-potties so I pee under a pine tree about a foot from someone’s blanket. The scene is all free feeling, music, boys. I wander...

The New Face of Yoga (three)

The Yoga Workshop is closing. Thirty years old. Elizabeth invites a bunch of us to practice one last sun-salutation, Surya Namaskar. I keep thinking about it, but don’t write back. Cindy writes: “I wouldn’t know what to do.”  I spent all the 1990’s there, well into...

The New Face of Yoga (part 2)

Some people move money around. Others launder their money. I move laundry around. I hang my wet clothes on the line remember them a little later and its already snowing a few inches. I go out, shake them off, bring clothes in, open closet doors an inch, toss a sheet...

Descent

Today the frost clings on all the branches equally like how fire clings to a log. ~ I sit here in the studio. I miss Gay, my dear friend. She’s in Berkley still, and we’ve been out of touch. We met at University of Colorado as choreography students. Our lockers were...

Peace

This morning, right after the sun, I scraped ice off windshield and drove East, past black cows, brown horses, corn and oil fields, into the small town of Mead. A huge decoration says, Peace on Earth. Deflated plastic Santa and reindeer lie on the ground. We lie on...

I’ve Never Told Anyone

                                   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. ~...

The End of the World

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...

Katharine Kaufman

Katharine Kaufman

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