Duluth poet Julie Gard reads work from her NEMBA-nominated poetry collection Home Studies.
Note to Self
I fell down the stairs this morning, twisting my arm and drowning myself in tea. Varnished wood met muscle and bone, phone and cup and notebook flew. A state of shock - time to stir the chili - and then why me? followed by acceptance: clean up the mess, take off tea-stained robe and godforsaken slippers. I stirred chili in my underwear this morning with a bag of frozen peas stuck down them. I would complain to the authorities, but they sleep and steer clear of the winter streets. I am on my own.