today god today
may we have
the guts to tell
the truth
#katyamills
today god today
may we have
the guts to tell
the truth
#katyamills
when i die bury me pen in hand
typewriter for a stone. do not trust your sight
or touch the body scentless
cold and frightful in the ground
while my spirit seen there
wanderin the cemetery grounds leans
off a row whistling some
semisweet show tune
#katyamills
when water boils down
relationships and typewriters take
dust my health i try to care. the country the past
the future depression a sensual affair
worlds in the saucepan wander the
march of mobile homes. a paved road
beneath which all
life settles and
i won’t
i got keyed up
tearful unable to speak
reflecting what you told me
had happened
they called me overinvolved they
said i lost perspective
they wanted to pull the case
out from under me. i
fought back 2 show it only
makes me work harder
to help
#katyamills
938pm. the silence breaks
arise with words and the endless expressions
alive i am laughing
@ the past @ the future
the sky
#katyamills
the city outside
restless
yearning
they make
windmill inflections
metal-dipped harp strings
a door off its hinges they
lean off the wall
listening to it all
talking to self ina
wistful way like a
lost son’s
mother’s
prayer
#katyamills
a rockstar like they used
to be thin as rails
bad attitude
couch surfing or up all night
drinking smoking
never rest
wishing they were dead
exposed
pushed on the stage by
the manager hassled
by the label
rarely paid littered
with dead
flowers
#katyamills
the lake was calm
took him in running
diving forward and
down. the voices at his back
drowned
gravity mollified
he turns to sand
shock of hair a sea
creature reaching
limbs pale and
glow they know
never to be seen
above or
below
#katyamills
gave you back
what you lost you
wake up wanting to
face the world
though frightened
you live a little
life after psych meds
feel yourself falling you
twitter like a baby bird
arms high
full with down
now fly
#katyamills
the straight edge of coast
the icon of west meets
east the rush of gold
lost its allure
big capital fled big
government’s reach
the fire and smoke
income and sales tax
leech
with great nostalgia
for the beach
#katyamills