Order this iTunes track from the poetry audio CD Hope Chest In The Attic 13 Years of Poetry & Prose ...Or order the entire CD set from iTunes:

Listen to this collaboration of Peter Bartels & Janet Kuypers in pb&j, or buy ANY tracks off their CD 2 for the price of 1, available any time online through iTunes.

Listen to this track off the CD Live at the Cafe, now available in a 3 CD set through iTunes.

Listen: (5:46) to this recording from Fusion

Watch this YouTube video live, the Cafe’s Poetry Wheel (Mach 2) 08/26/08, Chicago

See YouTube video of a compilation of Janet Kuypers’ poems Holding My Skin Together, Any Help At All, conversations three (a day of grieving), transcribing dreams one, the flashback, By Who I Don’t Know, and Did you know I was watching? in the Cafe’s Poetry Wheel (Mach 2) 08/26/08, Chicago

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her poem the Flashback live 5/27/15 at the open mic the Café Gallery in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200)

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her poem the Flashback live 5/27/15 at the open mic the Café Gallery in Chicago (Canon Power Shot)

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers in her 2/5/17 20+ minute poetry reading at Austin’s Recycled Reads, with her poems “the Fourteenth”, “Mapping the Way to True Love”, “the Page”, “the Flashback”, “the Muse, the Messiah”, “Slate and Marrow”, and “just one book” (this video was filmed from a Canon Power Shot SX60 camera; posted on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr).

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers in her 2/5/17 20+ minute poetry reading at Austin’s Recycled Reads, with her poems “the Fourteenth”, “Mapping the Way to True Love”, “the Page”, “the Flashback”, “the Muse, the Messiah”, “Slate and Marrow”, and “just one book” (this video was filmed from a Canon Power Shot SX700 camera; posted on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr).

the Flashback     Everyone at work wondered why she looked so down that day, and occasionally someone would ask her. "What’s the matter?" And she’d say it was just a bad day.     And she went through the motions, she did her work, she ate her lunch, even though the lettuce tasted bad, and then she had to run an errand for the boss.     And she was in her car, it was snowing, but not the pretty kind of snow, not the kind you expect to see on Christmas day. It was like the snow was already dirty and gray     before it hit the ground. And she was driving, and she didn’t even realize she was going under the speed limit. She was in a daze, lost, not because of depression, but because     there was noting she cared to think about. And so she drove. And she dropped off the crate of flyers and the mailing list for the boss, and she drove back, but the whole way     she was thinking that she should drive slower, so she wouldn’t be back at work so fast. And so she drove slowly, coasting now, watching the dirty snow touch her windshield.     And she looked over to her left, and there was an old man, lowering his car from the jack it was on. A flat tire. And then she had a flashback.     And it was no longer winter, and         she was no longer driving - she was outside, while he was trying to fix the flat on his rusty white car. They were driving back from a park, it was summer in Monticello, it must have been     ninety degrees, and there she was, sitting on a dirty beige carpet scrap from the floor of the car. She had taken the scrap and moved off the dirt     road, about ten feet into the field. And she just sat there, watching him, shirtless, fixing the car so they could drive home. And she wanted to remember it, just like that.     Then the light turned green, she followed the procession of cars through the graying snowflakes. And she began to forget it was a bad day, and     she didn’t mind her daze. Copyright Janet Kuypers. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission.