L.A. Palm

A series of semi-found haikus for my city

ocean’s breath hovers moonlight and palm — a basin’s tensile strength ensconced

this los angeles this desert city of youth and dreams and weird things

like trees that are not trees, that have no wood or shade but that call me home —

systematical experiment, lined up tall, horizontal eye —

biblical scrubland rich with money and sunshine they became symbols —

and yet I love their patient lean, their falling fronds — they will not vanish

I was inspired by Susie Pinon who recently reminded us of the addictive nature of social media — the endless scrolling and wasted time — and who compels us to commit that time to read more meaningfully. She includes reading on Medium as part of this effort, and I love this, for I’ve discovered an amazing array of writers whose work I otherwise would not know. She also urges us to spend our time writing.

After a long first week of teaching, I was definitely tempted to do some mindless scrolling — and truth be told, I did some of that to wind down. I also read, as Susie suggests:

• the opening pages of L.A. native and presidential inaugural poet, Amanda Gorman’s poetry collection book, Call Us What We Carry, which I received today in the mail as a gift from a dear friend
• a few chapters of poemcrazy: freeing your life with words by Susan G. Wooldridge, which I have assigned to the Poetry class that I am currently teaching
• and this article in Atlas Obscura, “Why Are There Palm Trees in Los Angeles?” from 2018, which dives into the fascinating history of why non-native palms were planted in L.A.

In poemcrazy, Susan G. Wooldridge urges poets to become collectors — to seek out words everywhere they look:

“I collect…hats, coins, cougars, old Studebakers. That is, I collect the words. Pith helmet, fragment, Frigidaire, quarrel, love seat, lily. I call gathering words this way creating a wordpool. This process helps free us to follow the words and write poems.”

With these converging influences in my mind and after having just come home from a 13K-steps evening walk (yes, 13K steps! I am building my strength back up post-hip and post-COVID!)) — and with this photo fresh in my mind — I was called to write these semi-found haikus.

Thank you very much for reading.

E. Katherine Kottaras holds an M.A. in English and an M.S. in Kinesiology with a focus on Integrative Wellness, and she is a contemplative writer and holistic teacher, having worked at the middle, high school, and community college levels for over two decades. She is a registered yoga teacher, personal trainer, and health coach while also living with invisible illnesses and neurodivergence, and as such, she is passionate about mindfulness, bodily self-determination, and health equity. As the queer daughter of an immigrant, Katherine believes that holistic and inclusive approaches to healing and growth should be accessible to all.

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