Kathryn D'Agostino

Tag: memories

  • Another Friday

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    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    My brain is meltingIt’s everywhere and nowhere.It doesn’t belong.Where is it? And it can’t be where it belongs.I don’t want to understand why someone would taste cold hard metal.I don’t want to feel a kinship for walking away.But I do.I feel it all. The hope and despair.Wanting to know, wanting to forget It’s everywhere and…

  • Grasping

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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…