Kate Daniels: The Poem
Niobe had just lost her son.
To help herself, she read a poem
to those assembled in the funeral home
Michael Simms: Only You
I woke this morning remembering the room we had in Paris which looked out on the Seine.
Sandra McPherson: Drunkard’s Path
From the table I selected a Big Book:
“The more hopeless he feels, the better.”
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Vox Populi now has almost 11,000 email subscribers. Every day we publish a carefully curated selection of poetry, essays, videos, music and art. Our regular contributors include Naomi Shihab Nye, … Continue reading
Kate Daniels: Detox
So she wouldn’t judge, she practiced empathy, sitting for months in full lotus, palms open, thumb and forefinger touching to make a small circle she could empty her thoughts inside … Continue reading
Kate Daniels: Driving
That was the year that summer lingered and fall came on late. I was still wearing sleeveless clothes when the temperatures fell, and the wind rose suddenly, and tore the … Continue reading
Kate Daniels: Relapse
Several of the young men from the treatment center are already dead. They spanned the demographic spectrum so no conclusions can be made about why they did, or didn’t, make it. … Continue reading
Kate Daniels: Getting Clean
i You can boil yourself down to the rudiments, all the way to the very bottom, and sit there pruning yourself to the compact form of a bouillon cube, its … Continue reading
Kate Daniels: Support Group
For a long time, each day was a bad day. Truthfully? For years, each day was a bad day. The nights were worse, but she could slide The deadbolt … Continue reading