The Inkling Volume 1
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Katie’s Poetry<br />
<strong>The</strong> Artists<br />
Under the armistice smiles<br />
and the social chivalry<br />
Is the sharp ache<br />
of which we do not speak:<br />
<strong>The</strong> pain from which we pull<br />
poems and pieces<br />
like rabbits from a hat.<br />
If we can express it<br />
creatively, eloquently<br />
It becomes delicate.<br />
Reconciliation waits beneath<br />
<strong>The</strong> pain we say we love.<br />
Wasps<br />
Stacked inside me like paper cups<br />
Is the ache of<br />
Bare feet against the wall<br />
Plum cheeks and silent giggles<br />
<strong>The</strong> warm indigestion of happy waiting.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re are days when they overflow<br />
Sloppily<br />
Punch at a party, it all spills, everywhere<br />
In every open and close<br />
Is the clandestine glow of the mornings<br />
<strong>The</strong> pure gladness of years.
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