Kate L Diehl


​​​Please enjoy these excerpts from a few of the poems 
published in Body Archaeology



BEING THREE AGAIN



Hanging out with 3 year olds I cracked up just because.

Because it was all so fresh and irresistibly improper.

We raced into the land of living.
Our hearts one mammoth engine recycling immutable desires...
catch me, see me, play with me.


Reality gave us no line we couldn't cross.

  We were contortionists succumbing to an infinite array of movements.
  Our faces were flung open doors, everyone came in.




​Reminders



​slight and nuanced, fleeting, yet it registers…
​barely discernible the falling or rising.
the smile that in the last act introduces sorrow.
the full moon eyes that blindside you
with what they’ve withheld.

half asleep we lie in bed with our drama.
manage to notice colossal shifts.
​faces register surprise as we grasp the significance
​of the event erupting around us…
at what moment did combustion become inevitable? 





dark weather



​ It's crazy wild.


I look out. The trees' green meadow is engaged in a ferocious battle.

Wind and rain demand dominion in a rayless sky.

Everybody's blindfolded, volatile and scrambling for space...



somer-saulting, recoiling, blitzing.



Silently screaming at full throttle.




SHATTER TINY PLANETS



Breezing through surface interactions...

we see, accept with limits, love big as we can.

Fingertips hovering above the rejection button, just one unobstructed press away.


Drawing lines cause we need 'em - need to feel good enough

need to rationalize our behavior.

Feeling morally superior by measuring our circumstances against someone else's debacle.


Living the comfortable life until unimagined events swoop in

sabotage our tidy world.