[the Writing of Kuypers]    [JanetKuypers.com]    [Bio]    [Poems]    [Prose]

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her poem “Exposed and Abandoned (dreams 3/24/20)” and her Periodic Table Twitter Verse poem “Manganese can cure us all” live 8/27/20 during the Virtual Austin Poetry Society New World Poetry open mic (Panasonic Lumix 2500 camera; on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram and Tumblr).

See a Facebook live video stream of Janet Kuypers reading her poem “Exposed and Abandoned (dreams 3/24/20)” and her Periodic Table Twitter Verse poem “Manganese can cure us all” live 8/27/20 during the Virtual Austin Poetry Society New World Poetry open mic (from a Samsung S9 camera).

Enjoy this YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her micro-prose “fox in the snow” and ““the Robot Zombie Witch Girl” revisited”, plus her poem “Exposed and Abandoned (dreams 3/24/20)” from the Down in the Dirt 1-4/22 Down in the Dirt issue collection book “The Ice that Was” on 8/3/22 on the 1st Wednesday of the month (1:00-3:00 PM CST) in honor of ‘Community Poetry’ (video filmed from a Panasonic Lumix 2500 camera; posted on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr). #janetkuypers #janetkuyperspoem #janetkuypersbookreading

Enjoy this Facebook live video stream of Janet Kuypers reading her micro-prose “fox in the snow” and ““the Robot Zombie Witch Girl” revisited”, plus her poem “Exposed and Abandoned (dreams 3/24/20)” from the Down in the Dirt 1-4/22 Down in the Dirt issue collection book “The Ice that Was” on 8/3/22 on the 1st Wednesday of the month (1:00-3:00 PM CST) in honor of ‘Community Poetry’ (this video was filmed and streamed from a Samsung S9 camera; posted on Twitter, Linkedin, Instagram, and Tumblr). #janetkuypers #janetkuyperspoem #janetkuypersbookreading

Exposed and Abandoned                (dreams 20200324) Janet Kuypers 3/24/20 At first, we were in our new apartment, I think it was in Logan Square. I was about to take a bath, I had a towel wrapped around me. Even though we lived in a first-floor apartment, the windows were partially open so we could let the fresh air flow. The blinds didn’t go all the way down, so I could see people walking by, and one man stopped, tried to look in. This was when you started writing derogatory messages into the dirty window glass, I guess that was your attempt to stop him. Of course, it didn’t work. So then the man came over and you started yelling at each other through this six-inch opened window pane, and there I was, wrapped in a towel, hoping we could just take some time for a bath, I wasn’t even the one being confronted, but still, I clenched my towel securely against me. I felt so exposed. Later, I was walking near the front door of our new apartment, and one or two people just walked in. I... stopped, because they looked like they knew they were supposed to be here, so I said, “I... think you’re in the wrong place.” They looked at me and one said that this is where they were meeting people for the wedding — apparently they were in town for this wedding, so I asked about the address, and they mentioned two, one of them mentioned the street Waveland, and I said, “well, that one sounds like it’s here, but we just moved here —” and they panicked, wondering if everyone had the wrong address or if it was just them. And... I don’t remember them leaving, they just stayed, because even though they had the wrong address they thought they had more of a right to be there than me. But the next thing I know is that you’re with me again, and all of these people decided to go out to a diner for breakfast in Chicago, and for some unknown reason we wers going along with them. They were driving, so we piled into their car with them, you and I in the front, like I was in the middle space, but close to you, and more people for this wedding were crammed in the back. They must have had multiple cars, and they pulled up — I saw the diner across the street, and everyone was piling out to be together inside. You started to get out so I would have room to move, and I told you that I had to first get the newspaper pages out of my shoes before I could get out of the car and go to the diner. I had no idea why there were newspaper pages in my shoes, but, you know, I couldn’t go walking down the streets of Chicago with newspaper pages coming out of my shows. You said okay, you’ll meet me inside, so you could find where they were all going, and there I was, in a stranger’s car, taking newspaper pages out from inside of my shoes. I guess I just left the newspaper pages on the floor of the car when I finally was finished, walked and opened the door to the diner. I looked around the diner, scanned, searched, couldn’t find you, or any group of people that I could belong to, anywhere. A French hostess looked at me, and I said that I was with a large group that just came in, one man’s name was John, and then I believe she said seize, as in not table six but sixteen, or maybe that was the number of people who came; then she put a menu in her hand and she started looking too. But even after soliciting the aid of a woman who spoke another language, I was still alone, and suddenly felt so abandoned.

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