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More from *katiekerr

This Is Not a Resting PlaceSkyscrapers leer
Amongst the ruins and scattered debris,
Their fervent empire, their entrails,
Their cities laid to rot,
Waiting to be a corpse
As though to wither were to die;
As if all humankind
Listened not to the Pharaoh's
Armies march.
LaceYou found me lacing up my dress,
My fingers twisting knots and caught
Behind my back. Like you, but less

Repentant: Take a seat,
Worry your tie a bit,
Look up at me, recite
Your too-rehearsed confession.

Now, every time
     I reach to touch
Somebody else,
     My fingers break,
Still tied in knots
     Between the lace.
Lost + FoundThat boot that braved a winter
Frozen in the mud
Remembers chasing
Curfew with one sock foot
Like a life depended on it.
Two weeks of chicken-soup-flu
And no one ever bought a pair of shoes new
After that, but the janitor cut it loose two years ago
And kids still say, "I'll wait for you by the boot."

One of those watches with the straps
That snap around your wrist, leaving welts
Like interrupting hockey night for homework help
Tick-tick-ticks somewhere in this pile of junk.

The sunglasses you bought two summers back
To hide your first black eye,
Wrapped up like Christmas
Inside the sweater you'd wear
When lying got to be too much to bear.
The So-Called Immortals, Ch. 1The sun rose, and Evelyn Vandergraff died. What a miserable place the desert was.
It was beautiful, of course—especially at dawn, when fire overtook the sky and threatened to turn the whole of the Earth to glass—but it was a grotesque sort of beauty that reminded Evelyn too much of herself. Especially at dawn, when the glass earth beneath her threatened to shatter and swallow her whole.
Nevertheless, the capacious solitude of the desert afforded Evelyn a rare opportunity—dare she say a luxury—and so she left the curtain of her litter open and watched the day begin. Minutes passed, then an hour, and Evelyn indulged hers
Five Seasons (Alternate)   There was this moment, early last May, when I could have glanced up from the book I was reading at the breakfast table.
    I could look out my window and see you standing on my lawn, this waif in a windbreaker grinning at a daydream you're probably too old for. I could bring you an umbrella. I could invite you in for coffee, and we could lose the whole day debating questionable Scrabble plays. We could take to the streets after dark and try to find an all-night diner that will feed us both for less than fifteen dollars. I could fall in love with you.
    But I don't.
...spring
    You go home with nothing but a story about how springtime leaves you feeling lonely. Your roommate blows off a dinner date to take you out for drinks. You send a Chardonnay up to the stage between sets and the singer takes you home.
    The new girl at work works up the nerve to ask me out.
    I don't have a reason to say no.
    Your
cosmopoliscosmopolis—
nothing but a cotton farm
centuries ago,

this shining iron empire
was built on chattel-men's backs.

sky-scraping hubris
refuses to kneel, but begs
to be disobeyed.

rebellious manifestos
written in aerosol paint:

there is no such law
which can tally a man's worth
like so much cotton.

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five seasons

:iconkatiekerr:

a girl on my lawn
watching peaches blossom—
you awaken me.

we stretch, having slept too long,
and dine under fireworks.

your birthday gift—
picnicking the harvest moon
much too quietly.

the frost sets in, whispering,
we've said all there is to say.

the easy way out,
a letter on the sill.
peach trees blossom still.
:iconkatiekerr:
An attempt at a renku describing the year-long relationship between the speaker and a lover.
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:iconsigma-echo-seven:
~Sigma-Echo-Seven Mar 20, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Each line is concise and meaningful. Well done!
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:iconneurotype:
^neurotype Jan 29, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I like the way you got the seasons in this. I'm not completely sold on the last one, but I get the need to bring it back around.
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:iconkatiekerr:
*katiekerr Jan 30, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
What do you mean, "sold?" What are you looking for in the last stanza that you're not finding?
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:iconneurotype:
^neurotype Jan 31, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
That's the thing, I'm not sure what I should be looking for there D: I think maybe the 'difficult goodbyes' line isn't doing it for me: it's too direct about what's happened, and both the preceding and following lines make it clear they've parted.
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