Oddity #8

A sea cucumber crawled out of the salad, in the middle of the night, caught a cab back to the sea. Haunted by nightmares of sliced tomatoes.

The cab driver got paid in croutons. The service station demanded cash for gas. He waited, in a hopeless state, finely seasoned with garlic and herb.

Someone drove up in a hybrid electric. They stepped out before him. The sunlight was clearly absorbed by their personal microfibre solar paneling. Purchased at REI for some exorbitant amount.

He could see and almost was moved by their aural pre-eminence. Still, he had not forgotten the sun, with whom he shared a deep m-path.

The sun was never paid for its efforts, either. And the sun never complained, neither.

The inroads mazed and became single track, breaded, unleaded, in a dirt road so dirty in the woods there were wooden signs painted and tacked to trees pleading “please drive slow! no wake! save our road”. So dirt clean the nature of it all.

This was the one. He and the sun had traveled long and far to the extra wonderful place of great and even renewal.

They saw and they knew. The sky turned red, from blue. He followed then into the lesser known.

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Oddity #7

An eighth day was added to the week and Gregorian calendar, without approval of the Church. This allowed the populace a seventy-two hour yawn, aka ‘seventh day stretch’, before returning to the essential five day work week. And archived the general american angst.

The State Department Store sold the new issue calendar copy out of refurbished former Sears franchises, which offered ample square footage for safe houses and the novel Homeland Security and Exchange Commission.

The HSEC was setup as a critical watchdog to oversee and protect American interest overseas, now that shares of the United States, Incorporated, sold at a slight premium to its initial public offering on the New York Stock Exchange.

The trillion plus dollars raised in this remarkable, unprecedented, scandalous public offering, spearheaded by the now defunct President Trump, Donald

(whose final veto of the critical congressional legislation set to block his party’s ‘Incorporation of the States’ initiative preceded his impeachment)

was now being issued toward the most unfortunate application of architectural mindtrust ever known to man, aka the blueprinting of a male counterpart to miss america herself, the Statue of Liberty.

The giant slab of poured concrete was already spiraling up out of the waters like a Dairy Queen soft ice cream cone, to house the new symbol of grand patriarchy ever alive and well.

Apollo, of course, was the model.
The Trump Tower affiliate, of course, had been jettisoned.

But plans to use the hollow carbon fiber globe situated firmly within Apollo’s head of reinforced steel, for home offices for the New Chairman of the Board and CEO of the United States, Inc.

(and not necessarily the President)

were subpoenaed by the Justice Department, and were now being relentlessly scrutinized by the tired eyes of the Attorney General, with the Supreme Court perched precariously over his shoulder, overlooking the whole sordid affair.

Meanwhile, an Pan-Euro-Middle-Asian Investment Cabinet of whose who, had been vetted atop the tallest edifice in Dubai, and was now casting its first votes under a mirrored ceiling, over pi

nk champagne on ice,  to determine what  would  really happen across the Atlantic.

Sitting at the head of this VIP table of leaded glass with platinum trim of inlaid pearl, was none other than the greatest surprise of the evening, most touching to all… the prime beneficiary of all global casino holdings and friend to all four seasons, fair women and men.

EFFING EFFED! (POEM & SONG)

im so effing
effed

once i was smart
now i am dumb
once i felt feeling
now i am numb

only god
can judge me!
ice cream in your face i
scream in your face
cream in your
face your
face your book your
face ina book youre
not listenin to
me

wrapped up in cellophane
wrapped up in cellphone
locked up in cellphone
locked up ina cell

take this napkin
its white
draw whatever you want
its art
stick figures
its wiping an ass
swiping an idea easy
off a perforation

origami and you
and a cigarrette butt
and a cigarette
but…

we’re so effing boring
so effing
effed

reading the mind
reading the stars
reading the paper
reading my lips:
so effing what?

eff you! and your effing
effingness. sir eff-a-lot

hold the phone!
hold the tablet
hold your gaze on me
softly

read my lips
quiet the mindless
inaction

no faxes from Asia
no instructions
no faction

no mickey mouse
fantasia
no brakes and no
traction

no roses
no hips
no more LSD
trips

just vitamins for us
essential yet boring

no banana
silk-screened on a t-shirt
it detracts from the
logo

no velvet
no underground
no Warhol
its boring

personal headphones
sleep apnea machines
no music. no snoring

effing effed

no winning
no losing
no flying
no boozing
depressing the
snoozing

get high like a junkie
on pre-natal vitamins
another pill head
how boring

no touring the world

im at home. effing effed
just eating my grapefruit
its juices runnin
down my lips my
chin

purple liquid pooling
on to Sexus. page 177.

no living vicariously
through the dead authors

the girl after
girl described in the pages

a dirty old man
beats off in a corner
how boring…oh wait!
its the author

from inside the pages
hes watching the purple
drool down my
red lips

how sexy
to know you’re alive
to know we’re alive
you and me
both

how boring
to die

a girl and a
guy and a guy and a
girl after
girl

give me a mission
give me a message
give me a bottle

effing effed
ill crack someone over
the head
with it

Oddity #6

Reality would no longer suffice. Some said it was too painful to be fully present in a dying world poised to eighty-six the current resident life forms. Others condemned such painful truths as political rhetoric.

The latest methods of projection were mind-numbing for sure.
Audiovisual extracts in sublingual form, put under the tongue for tingling, deconsecrated, concentrated lapse into memories plucked out of far future triumphs, to trump any nearsighted fallibility.

oneness

No need to trip on those wires, my friends, cause whether on or offline there’s always the possibility of wireless means of psychic connection… don’t you feel the goodness in your hearts i emanate to you on the daily?
if not, maybe i must try harder to reach out my light to you. oh. no don’t be scared of my shadow. my darkness is deep and you can take a peek for sure, but i embrace all within me and therefore it has no kinda dark power or control over me nor does anyone, anymore. i have been there. what i am saying is hmm… an expansiveness of communication is always possible, and the idea, after we get sick of our samsungs and iphones, is to really say goodbye and recycle all those puppies into a black hole (one of so many out there). perhaps the one on galaga 25. 37 X. that’s a particularly vacant dark matter hole wishing to receive all our crapola technologies. then we can go back to being fully conscious human beings. until that final receiving dock for the body letting go of the spirit, aka the earth. we can no longer risk getting robbed in our semi-conscious social media haze glaze. then again, we are where we are. so accept it and use it to convey your personal to the collective moshpit slushpile. yes, add your harmonics to the vibratory being of coalesced beauty, within and without. we are universal ONE and is not that scary? well. no need to be afraid of reality. just BE.  CAM00492

Oddity #5

I was grown from the earth, in my mother whose very life depended on the earth, the vegetables pushing out of mineral soil.

I faced the sun gave life to the plants, like another plant was i. For when the sun fell, again and again i found my head down in the dark, gaze to the ground, eyelashes a flutter then clasped shut for the night.

Many a fire came over my soul, burning through all of my being. For a time, as a child, they tried to put me out. Still i burned. Incendiary. Until natural i burned myself out.

Only the rain that emboldened the soil to create its next wonder, could put out our fires.

Like a period puts out a sentence.
Like a woman puts out a candle.
Like a man puts out a hunger.

Like poetry and prayer extinguish the thirst.

Autumn is

A stretch of small city road, gone country under a blanket of fallen leaves. A crunchy bicycle ride over said dead leaves. A look all around and see colors. In a cafe, inspired to say, i love you, to yours, as you hold them by woven, heavy cotton and wool, at the arms just above a pale palette of wrist.

katyamills.com.