Excerpts from Vestiges & Bones

Vestiges and Bones marks the second volume of poetry by Katie. Continuing her poetic style of short prose and autobiographical glimpses, Kate explores the more macabre side of life. Concerned with body, loss, and dying, she captures the unexpected and often unwanted edges of ourselves. Cutting and to the point, her poetic style is sparse and grueling.

Teeth

Tearing flesh, chewing.
I obsess on the sound—
on the yellowed-white surfaces
caked with bits of black-green mash.
Chew, consume, chew—
like a train pushing uphill.
Chew, consume, chew—
a gnawing sound, gulping
in fear of hunger.
Voracious appetites, click silverware
great intakes of air
whoosh food by forks and spoons.
Someone gags and slurps a beer.
Shiny painted teeth, lipstick slashed mouths
Shimmer in the restaurant lighting;
doubling their identity in the silver-sheen of knives.
Consume, gulp, chew, swallow—
Adam apples bob, spittle filled with tiny specks flicks
like a tongue of a snake.
Voices return, plates clang together:
“Would you like dessert?”

Inbetween

Neither life,
nor death
something inbetween;
living decay
eroding coastline, ever-changing
a slippage. Just a bit, here—there.
A foot drag, one second out of time.
An axis shift of nanometers, imperceptible,
cataclysmic nonetheless.

Excision

I cut you, quick—efficient.
Left you raw, bloodied, a hollow bone
echoing an eerie siren call.
Startled by my earthquake—
the betrayal of your ground—
the line went dead.

It was another who spoke for me—
my timbre not my own.
Ideas slipping into crevices of
unresolved volcanic molt
poisoning the ground,
shifting the earth,
devastating you with shock and awe.
Your sudden extinction, a last gasp of realization.
You were cut out, excised with precision—

Vestiges

You step out into the world,
still alone,
head down, self-concealed;
just another, like no other;
blended in, yet not.
An uninhibited expression;
clink of ice, clearing the throat,
dark bar, revealed self.
Gone somewhere in cigarette smoke.
Life moves on,
mourn.
Put the face one.
Adjust. Smile.
Flattered they still follow.
Home. Alone.
Getting old, this car
won’t take you far
enough
for a second chance,
a better lot.
Ego falters—
glass falling off the bar.

You are alone,
singing in the dark.
A smile, wild untamed unused,
grimaces into the spotlight,
enter vestiges of self to stage
center
de-centered and strumming
buzzed, hazed.
Home
silence
alone
is this all the emptiness?

Dystrophic Ragdoll

A dripping leg, pools to the floor.
A slump, a slouch. Collapse.
Clothing spills around, rippling outward
like stone sinking in pooling water.
Neck falls, head sinks. Burning.
Pressure building in the head.
Hair, thinning, covers
the etched expression of pain.
Sigh, heaving the straw-stuffed body, nothing.
Only a twitch, an echo of movement.
Hands under arms pull up,
Gravity pushes the head back.
Eyes widened with fear.
Insistent voices barrage in muffled tones;
the cord at the back is broken,
only a soft hiss issues.
Dragged to the bed and propped.
Shadows surround, faced bent over.
Lift, move, drop; lift, move, drop.
Repetitive absence of motion.
“Can you blink?”
Eyes blink closed, open.
Heart monitor beep, beep, beep.

Excerpts

Click to read:

• Witness
• Vestiges & Bones
• Turning the Silver Wheel
• Into Quiet
• Love Amongst the Fishes