one

journal # june one

Couldn’t stand you but
the weather was
fine

I was under it when we got home
and the heart seated in the center
of the bloody thing
making it go

Organized chaos and classified a mess
your up style had gone down
the eggs scrambled
mostly whites the yolks fell
outta fashion

Couldn’t stand it
i mean together

The coffee was too
white i mean
mixed
up with what the cows
gave

I think it all started
i mean ended
in 1992

what we thought we ever knew about anything

the Sea
her depths
wash out of the green
to constitute
a firmament of
jellyfish

inexact
unspoken
wobbly
uncatalogued

drawn off the balance of
good will

unaccounted for
in waves
in rolls

pretty coins
ripped open
swaying in the
tide

the amplification
of which
throws off
any and all
of what we thought we
ever knew about
anything

wall ball

naked like ankles
bit by geese
scraped on thorns
bloodshot

our eyes
behind caked makeup an
low-grade petroleum
products
our scars
salvage yards
smoke trails
pic’n’pull
highways
bits of plastic
bits of plaster
bits of glass

we are
wall ball material
circa 1973

our water
steady boiling
ona stove
poached eggs
double-breasted
back-stabbings
on front street

the boardwalk vanishes

in the fog
in the cloud

gas consumption
tele vacation
the coffee
sure is bitter
around here

for now
you made a friend
i made a friend
my gosh

you can do that
you see
young runaway
you did

letter

one lonely night ona

edge ina pool
of light

inscribed by hand
taken from the scene
collected bya squeeze
ofa heart
folded in thirds
double encrypted
inaccessible to all
but one
like pores
touched by witch
hazel
ona edge
ina pool
of light
one candle
 night
kept
 from a
world and
given
you

– KatYa

promise

once there was a boy named bee

upon my knee
softly telling me how rivers
did not reach the sea in the year
twenty twenty three
some were black others blue
in twenty twenty two
and none could you wash your
self in
his eyelashes fluttered
feeling me shudder
i could tell
he honestly knew
he unbuttoned my collar
i cried and hollered and then he promised
just breathe
then rolled up our sleeves so carefully
we could see those cuts on
our arms
with one finger
he crossed my lips
tenderly looking into my eyes
and
we existed quietly there
until about quarter past one
bee upon my knee
and me
i wondered if all of the darkness
 he shared
could
     ever
         be
          undone
yet i knew our
                 pain
             was
         the
same
– KatYa, 2017