add infinitum (part 2 of particulate)

Why all this secrecy in the only land left with the only trees that offer only the finest santa rosa plums one could sink one’s soul into? The soul always begins at the enamel of the teeth, some part of myself said. I vetoed the thought. Back to the question, why did we have to hide our treasures? When sharing them was so much more enjoyable? What parcel of  drone intelligence in Afghanistan informed us to continue to hold on?  I mean, dare i point to the ground and meet eyes with my people to show how half of what we cherish and hold close to vest goes unused and rots between our toes?

Tonight is the same as a week ago. Forensics agents and yahoo messenger chat administrators  get drunk on insomnia. Graveyard hours give leniency to those who wish to have the fresh air and night sky and electric stars to guide and calm them. I set my feet to urban time. I see the junkies and locals steady mobbing the Whole paycheck parking lot trash bins.

Although I admired cold cases gone hot, I felt as though Forensics were passe. Standard procedure. The topic was of less interest to me in the new century, almost mindless. Many experientials and intuitives like myself were focused on precognition. Developing the sense. We hoped to locate ourselves either half steps ahead or behind law enforcement rhythms. Not because what we did was illegal. north beach beat adulators, and other sordid types.  Where we all were headed was all but certain (what some would call) hell.

by katya

I was still asking was there something going on?  halfway into the week. The lawyers and forensics had fucked up the whole scenario. Nobody knew what time it was. Nobody had any money left. And everyone was angry about the lies and deception. But nobody had enough time or energy to pull us out of the mudpuddle.

And I may have been ahead of the awareness curve, bulging back down, booty slump the chart produced toward some social science survey of  U.S. census citizenry, projected out of powerpoint to document awareness. As measured by hard to prove, easy to dismiss qualities or behaviors based on industry standards… as they cautiously evolved through the academic bureacracies to gain acceptance by industry leaders backed by and instrumental in securing ongoing public and private funding through grants and foundations, etc. You will be so fucked up trying to understand this bullshit! they promised.  Only for a while, they promised. Until you sign some contract they created. To fuck you. And whomever you’re fucking, too.

But we could blame the lawyers and the cops only so long, before we realized the deeper root of the problem.

This left us where we were. Flat-footed. Money made everything what it was, or worse.  Money kept the institutions together, barely.  Any revolutionary creative force threatened to gain immediate foothold.  Generally speaking.  An exceptional frontload washer of a maelstrom was imminent. The animals knew it. Killer whales rose almost whole out the Alaskan waters, undeterred by the opposing gravity. The sea otters turned and turned and turned, cracking shells together in cacophonous productions. Seas and territories globally touched and met and kept the electric circuit of our world whole, connected, glowing. Undisruptable. Unrepudiated welterweight champion of our solar system.

Throw your hands in the air, celebrate if you can breathe on another woodburn winter day in our increasingly spare the air day oxygen deficit-run you ragged kinda culture. Fuck! If you have asthma like many of us do, myself included, you might be getting worried. Secondary to secondhand smoke and chronic bronchitis, then fuck you feel the air or what is lacking in the air quality. You find yourself out of breath consistently and might sign up for alerts for spare the air days on your cell, because strangely your increasingly inhibited, shallow breathing coincides perfectly with poor index days in your local area. Fuck! This is not good.

Each breath like each meal, every morning a bit less nutritious than the last, it seems. So? Make up for it with the HFCS, it always fills the gap. The closer! High Fructose Corn Syrup for all! Like we went from the local deli of the eighties, to subway, all the You begin to worry. You don’t want to suffocate, eh? Is it a possibility? Well, can you get up and out of bed if you don’t have to?

I wondered about this from the moment i awoke into this fine cold for oakland with hard nipples for a winter storm-tested window. Frozen now thawing. For natives to this region the pain of the cold. Knawing. And my heart was hard beating for the memory. Oh, and the gaps between what i could recall. They would bubble and settle, like memory foam. the air slowly gone out of them. Back to my mug root beer. My sweet time home alone to myself, slightly on the beneficiary side. The asset of the balance was restoration of mental health.

k in red

I would have my converses. my all-stars on. black and white and just that simple. arguments may have gotten loud last night. but not complicated. simple like an air horn blast in your ear. well. through a hollow wall or door. this is low rent living. you know the deal. we cannot be sore. everything is built toward an early death of hard apartment life chewed up kinda living. Used to the give and take of taking. Oh, less the natural giving. Natural like breathing, of course. If you did not give, then never would you receive. Otherwise how would you know? how to cut it hard and cut it slow? Cut it deep so the shallows seem to be of commensurate kind of depth?

Had no one known a difference in depths? Well… you know the rest. So of course I was wise to the tales the oral traditions of dangerous acts and certain prohibitions… i was aware inside of me lay certain inhibitions (most of which i secretly hoped i could overcome). A childlike kind of desire came over me almost every morning as I awoke. So second nature I had to really slow down time – to a bowling ball release… (from a fastball down the middle with no sidespin). Plain and unaccessorized and hot out the oven.

Today was gonna be small as partly sunny. Large as organized unionized, pasteurized, homogenized labor. Like Oakland works and even on today, this k-day, this okay day. This say, what kind of day? hey! oh, right, taking a left turn on Broadway today. Say. Do. Bum a smoke. Listen to your heart. Faster then slower as you disappoint yourself. Then heat it up as you wax philosophical. Suffocating kinda fast on the spare the air day.

Feeling nautical. Enclosed. Embraced not so much. Traced now with the GPS on your android, checked off for awhile. Out of boredom. Change of style. Hiphop back to nothing back to hiphop. Play with the TV. Let her on then turn her off again. Silence the commercials and thank god you gotta remote. From the talk shows to retro tv; old episodes of that terrible show: murder, she wrote.

No remote access to your laptop. atop the tabletop. Time foams up like the air, the spaces in the air, the humidity after the ice thaw. The moisture in the place. The mould, if black, must be the worst kind in America. Basis: race. So you turn your thumbs around one another. Chasing flesh into butter. Not no margarine. Uncut portions may now be cut, in time like the cuts on your pen you made with whatever was sharp enough to make cuts. You forgot because you were in the blocks of natural inhibition amplified. We call these the ruts.

But today the sun will rise and fall and your chest will do the same. Your head will think the whole business slightly curious, all the way to half-baked aka insane. But no the sanity reminds you in the background. The foreground prone to quaking earth. The drip of clock arms shakes off the gravity and they will rise back until they peak above your head, where breathing is so easy.

Tommorrow at the mercy of the subconscious again.

Today I became conscious of the conscious objectors. And all foul political propositions which held court in the states for too long. For years.  Too long at the mercy of those who wish to burn wood inside their fireplaces. For fun. Not necessarily thinking they might be impacting anyone. Smoking cigars and tending to their hearths. Coughing up a lung, and further and farther from the earth.

Close to going underground, yet high from the contact with spirits never before seen (or seen only in dreams)…  Slow motion books, quickly and carelessly bound. The economic gradient in decline… (declination is a relatively healthy sign). Against the steep trajectory of the euro taking off. Take off your shoes and donate them to the Greeks. Let the dutch stop up the gaps and all the leaks.

Just like you, I’ve been waiting for this day.

And no, not just since last night.

When I lay down.

 The aforementioned statement is unsponsored, unclaimed, unadopted, and otherwise left hanging to expose and disintegrate into atmospheric conditions, and under no condition to be repeated, remembered, sued, reflected upon, or automatized unless a request is sent with alot of money to the author@

year of diminishing returns # i

She was what she was

the year of diminishing


In the year of diminishing returns,

administered (was)…

(to humor your ass)

(my ass)

(our collective behinds)

(our bubble goose cabooses)

our pony-up (when they demanded the triple crown stallion)

Nothing left up to anyone (no one)

(that means all of us, diluted with equal parts tap water)

(not even those who got degreed in creative license…

(those lucky scrapers off the bottom barnacles)


heartache (certain)

heartburn (also certain, it seems)

untold darkness (certain and unexpected)

over non-extant (certainly does not exist)

sky unfold (whats sky? ) (no one knows)

unfurled (untold untoward unsightly wrinkly unkempt)

dilapidated far to one side extremities (a factual account)

Fallen like (mighty) trees felled

told (telled) lies (to keep the truth a mighty distant memory)

(to keep investment in trust at an exact. ie.  precise, all time minimum)

(sounds great like bargain basement prices) (but isn’t great)

to fuck off! (told but only in ways unspoken)

(like a text sms)

(or a brief email)

or a blocked call (every time you call its straight to voicemail, friend)

or a slimy rock uncovering

secondhand news set on fire

and (thrown through your bayless window)

(if youre lucky 2 have a goddamn window)

or parentheses that have taken over

their own use (of) themselves))) ((it so)) (appears)

now you got air to put into it

(your window)

(a terrible joke).

Ah, yes!

a single year (thankless eternity seeming)

that means 365 m.fucker days (!)

of bending over and taking it (see, nothing 4 the imagination really) (just the edge of the mattress)

no matter what class (clown).

grade (grub).

haughty felt sense (ego-toad).

h. sweet h.

We all have our declassified (ie raped)

b. grade  (non-virgin)

hid just under our (potential in most cases) A-grade

(subconscious- relegated)

sub-lemonade (like submarine. aka. damn torpedoes. sunk from our conscious knowing)

deeply entrenched(they call it good 4 survival)

in any shelf (aka earthen crust, water soluble)

of any material

(even the rooted consistency of mamas marmalade)

(laid in the area forbade)

(below the patch of shade whereby sets down roots

(citric) acid touch of jade (still grabs hold like marmalade)

(ma now under scrutiny (turning orange) swears she ain’t made)

in us (this egg no one claims to have laid)

fancy prohibition era grade

(and if you think u dont)

(u will find yours)


legged (h.sweet h. labelled) swill.


You will get yours! (just knock the secret knock)

my dear (ally of the underground rail snail)

im sorry (you can’t go begging for rotgut, afterall it seems)

We are all so (lonesome)

in this year

of dim

inish (ing)

repo (ssessed)







re(setting) of re(sun)

re(inforced) stereotypes (labels)

re(experienced trauma (ptsd)

re(d) eyes burning with fires of re(cent) happenstances elongated

like m(urder) in our m(inds)…

Im sorry (or may say so, just to say in a way that suggests the contrary)

let me start again.

Pity we are all so (lonesome)

in this year

of dim (not bright)

in (certainly in is out)

ish (oh how i wish) (u wish) (wishing-well-wished)

go phish(ed)


re(setting) of re(sun)

re(inforced) stereotypes (labels)

re(experienced trauma (ptsd)

Re(d) eyes burning with fires of

re(cent) happenstances

re(legated) far back


like m(urder)

in our (crossing our) (always crossing our)

m(inds) if not B-fore

then  be(lated) like

e(longated) like another

shadow (carrying over our form)

stretching and pinning us

(like some application to your desktop)

(like some eyes behind the blue heron)

(like some nametag to some name)

(like some car accident to some pavement)

like some beyond the grave


to conclude

the publicity scandal

surrounding you

at your


h. sweet h.

all your possessions

like storage lockers unpaid (for 90 days)

up for grabs


all what came



the year(ya, this one here)

our collective

aching souls

declared (or were declared)

bankrupt (c.)

damn near really wonderful

There was a common sign between them that allowed for a signature start to the whole situation. Not

to mention this was springtime and thus stamped natural (if not organic).

The whole situation was damn near really wonderful. Like a blending of tapioca and iced tea, sucked

up together inside of wide square stretch of colored straws.

There was a common home with a common area with a vending machine deplete of a common brand

of common cookies they shared a taste for. One drank too many colas. The other began to drink more

colas in the presence of the one. The one began to ride bicycles with the other. The other began to twist

her fashion sense according to the other’s well-received fashion statement.

There was an age discrepancy of many years, between the two, and an ethnicity differential. However,

this was not a corporate enterprise and therefore these particular items became negligent, and were neglected

in favor of the coincidence of paths in the shining moment they shared. A shining moment in a horribly

unpolished era, a cash-strapped state, an overpoliced city, in an under the table kinda street mentality


All in all there was spark and tension, which kept the time they spent together from sagging or dragging or otherwise dripping beads of ennui or loneliness, as they each had been accustomed.

There was a way in which most acquaintances of both of them could not bear the sight of them together, and

efforts came from all surroundings to separate them from one another. This only ignited a rebellious fire

licking the planted walls and burning through to connect above cardboard flimsy attempts

to box them out.

They both had moments of feeling horribly depressed, sometimes coinciding with days they missed doses

of antidepressants they each were prescribed. They both had dreams of making music and moving masses,

and neither had seen much success in the latter of the two. They cast empathic channels toward one another, and rolled courageously through the process of becoming vulnerable and allowing trust to form and embrace them.

The connection was so young, you could expect a slight panic in either one, were a call or text not returned

within 24 hours.

They were both honest with one another on a feeling level.  He was a man and often turned on by her. She was turned on by him, but not always reciprocating his desire to get with her. He, too, had times of turning away from her advances, yet spared a catastrophe of hurt by simply sharing how there were times one could not be turned on by anything no matter what.

She would not necessarily undress or anything like he might hope or suggest, other times, and they often might laugh through a conversation in which he would tell her what he liked and she would then give him some of that, in lieu of what he maybe hoped to receive.

He told her for instance he liked it when she swore.

She in turn told him fuck or damn or hell! so and so and such in such, etcetera…

Alot of this was provocative and sexually explicit in nature, and don’t you wish you knew exactly how so?!

They kept this to themselves, as it was about the only form of privacy they could experience in a webcam world of eavesdroppings and privacy assumed public until one rifles through poly- statements regarding privacy policy of different entities, requiring agreement to secure privacy based on chosen and checkmarked items.

She ranted against the corporate lean of democracies, and the ineffective mannerisms of modern urban living. He in turn stared wide eyed and loved her for this. For her passion.

She in turn laughed and cursed like he said he liked,  and he laughed back. She turned him on this way.

She got turned on by his turn

on… this was all

damn near really wonderful.

add infinitum, subtract perpetuity

There was something (nondescript perhaps) imminent. The humans knew this much. The animals knew more. The plants belonged. The earth produced. The liquid underearth strata created this nondescript something imminent. All we humans got on our sentient radar was imminence. So issues of much less importance trumped(and trumped easily) this great and possibly horrible imminent situation.  The animals tried to give us the dl down low hello.  Then, when the time had come, scurried and leapt to low ground and away from us.

We were certainly high on something or another. Chemical romance. Oxytocin. Norepinephrine firing like fresh clean oiled and polished cannon balls barreling towards some forgotten target. High on whatever we want so bad we must get get get! The animals strategic movement was benign unremarkable herd drift. Maybe a couple of Britishand Norwegian migration trackers packed up and left home with docudrama on their minds and euros in their funded pockets. They just preferred to spend three quarters of the year away from all humanity as well. Their occupations afforded them an easy excuse.

photo and edit by katya

the imminence

Some called them spiritual. Some called them famished. Either way, whatever was about to happen was not to be anticipated by any of us, no matter their rank, IQ, gender, sexual orientation, race, attitude, level of curiosity, ability to regulate emotional lability, nature, continuum of looks (ie beautiful to cannot look), allostasis (areas of life failure to keep balance in the graphic equalizer of experience).

For suddenly like a shift in winds, all of them vaulted up the grassy hills rising up either side of the valley.  They peaked the crest of the ridge, and remained awaiting encrypted instructions under the appropriate sky signed authority. Cloaking had been activated, with coordinates unknown and unreported and otherwise….never happened, aka Unreleased from and to perpetuity, subtract infinitum.