A Hard Book to Read

Ghost lines dogged his face. They moved, quietly, when he was worried or frightened. They had hidden written meanings and sometimes they read different things. One day it was, "I hate this," and the next day, "I'm leaving," and later that night, "But where would I go?"

This Site is SO Over

Have moved to wordpress. Blogger, you treated me well, but my command of css is not adequate enough to make this layout alright. So, onward to

www.katebarbaria.wordpress.com !

Home on the Range

Pop pop pop like a toy it popped them all off.
I was not sure exactly what to do after that.
Cans are easier to pick up and re-stack.

Close Enough to a True Story

I was a woman, earlier today. I am an android, now, in hot pants and drying white paint. The transformation, it was quite complete; I will go mechanically (so to speak) through the motions. When the sun rises at four-thirty AM, I will just be Susan, the girl-human, again

C'est Magnifique

Danny loves Mme. Barrett.
It was carved into the high school wall in shaky latch-key kid scrawl. I wondered, as it sweltered that evening, what were the supposed charms of Mme. Barrett? I wondered if she, too, nursed a deep and illicit longing for Danny-- and if, perhaps, he passed her class.

Also, You Had a Car

I've been wondering where you are since you left this town. If you're wondering where I am, I'm just at the local bar. Bring me another! Bring me two more! The only place I want to be is on the floor, and the only thing I want to hold is in the bathroom stall. And I'm definitely not answering your calls.