Kathryn D'Agostino

Author: Kathryn D’Agostino

  • Grasping

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    My hands are covered in dirtI’ve been grasping Pebbles are embedded in my palms Flowers bloom from my fingertips I keep tryingSinking my hands into the moist warm earth I’m searching For deep roots or a boulderI want to hold onI need something to hold onto I’m watching my own frantic effort to remain clinging…

  • An Actual Poem

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    Your presence ignited a wildfire. And for that, there are fines owed. In lieu of US currency, I’ll accept the feeling of freedom that only comes with road trips,  and the calm joy of waking up to the clanging of pots and pans on a holiday morning. I don’t blame you for the words flowing…

  • Anywhere

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in ,

    I’m not sure how to tell my story, I don’t know where to begin. And I sure, as hell don’t know where this ends. It’s just festering inside of me. It’s been festering inside of me like a disgusting abscess that someone mistakes for a pregnancy. I don’t know how else to put it. It’s…

  • Early November

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in ,

    I feel settled, in myself, pleasant gray, Seagull cries, feral cats, walks on the beach, memories of novels set in seaside Britain. Sink full of dishes, seafood chowder, a clean fridge, hot coffee, black and white cookies, bowls of pasta and vodka sauce, grocery stores of memories. A down comforter, wood burning fires, the voice…

  • Alone

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    Longing feels different here. In this moment.In this place. I want someone to read this. I want someone to hear this. I want other people to carry this burden with and for me. I know that’s unfair to ask.But I don’t care. I hate that. I lack. I lack the capacity to feign interest Or…

  • Updates of No Particular Importance

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in ,

    Im sitting in the car waiting for school to get out. The rain is pounding down on the windshield and the colorful leaves look like an oil painting against an unfinished canvas. The sky a terrifying white of potential, and yet all I can think about is I miss this place or rather, that place.…

  • A group of three

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    I want to be the most boring person in the world I want people to never quite remember my name or physical features I wish nothing about me sparked interest I want no one to ever be confused if they like me or are just fascinated by me To wonder if they care about me…

  • Spiral

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    “Sometimes things go too fast and too slow all at once.” – July 19th I found this note today while tidying up my studio and realized I hadn’t sat down to look through pictures or even think much about this past weekend in Corner Brook. So much of my life the past couple of years…

  • Collaboration

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    The year is more than halfway through and somehow my scribbling in red dry erase marker in my study “Be a Professional Artist” seems an ever present reality. Workshops, exhibitions, drafts. I feel caught up in life. Kinda like those dreams where it feels like if you run fast enough you can float through the…

  • What’s there to say about July

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in ,

    There was volunteering at Folk Fest, Girl’s Night, music at the Majestic, Sound Symposium, PRIDE, and new friends, an avalanche of “Yes’s”. It was busy but there were also quiet moments of reflection. And yet I don’t know how to share all that because the thing is any boasting of good fortune or good times…