A Poem by Ken Karrer

Remembering Our Breakfast at Neruda’s

Your wetness dripped down

My chin
Like
Bee dulce
Honeyed, warmed
From my favorite
Sopapilla.
Dusted
By baby powdered
Sugar.
You let me
in,
Mi sancha.
I just loved to
Move up
to your table.

 

Ken Karrer grew up in central Texas…playing football, hauling hay, working on oil rigs, and pumping gas. He received degrees in English, history, and education and worked as a teacher, coach and high school administrator for over 30 years. He lives in Austin and now and works for the Texas Education Agency. He is a musician and an avid restorer of antique Cadillacs.