peaches

peaches. subsumed

all the rest
made me only more tired
so i stopped sleepin
now im
trackin shadows
cross the wall
while my ice cubes
wave water trails
into ginger ale
rattlin the cubes
against the glass
to remember you
the man above me
looks off the wall into space
dreaming of life
with someone real
i am sunk into a couch
like buried treasure
all the gouramis gape at me
silent kissing
an air bubble
tough feelings to feel inside
more than i can handle
i
rattle the cubes
to remember you
another character
jumps off a page
into my heart
i wonder bout the man
the life in two
dimensions. how safe not having
a back to watch
not being real
how safe
how dry
how terrible
you cannot
lend a friend
a hand or take a stand
brushed off
like you are. canvassed
for meaning
pretty rendition
come into my heart!
lemme hold you there
make you real
i rattle the glass
and remember you
wax inwards
street sweep the cottons
real estate gets pricey
along the ear canal
listen
i need an extension
of gratitude
outward. my ideals are almost met
almost
there is
there is
still time yet

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

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

journal entry

journal # 22 of april

the sunlight fell and we rose up
to meet it everyone
on the street

it burst into constellations
of broken glass
in the road

we stretched into lengths of newfound
lands verdant green were we

thin strips
followin the tracks
out to where grass prospered

here we forgot all those lives
in the newspapers they
stacked up against
us

the rainy days
we missed them

the opening is tbd…

byo latchkey

we were…

latchkey kids. made deaf beneath

the wall of sound

of the industry

of the landscape
in the head
we played arcade games
to recover and chewed bubble
gum and drew on ourselves
with ballpoint pens
dumb kids. not stupid just
contextually thin

lacking or without sense or

the means to make
sense

hungry for relevance
starved of context

ignorant of our rights
we no longer studied our
country’s constitution
in high school
we microwaved tv dinners
and rode our bikes into the
night with duran duran baking
our heads by transistor
radio
stressed kids. the trance-like induction
of environmental stressors fill
the internal auditorium
teeming life of feelings acid-washed
a sensitive study of self
unreleased
abbreviated from an lp to an ep
the world stops when the record store is closed
the opening is tbd
you are all invited
statistics will be gathered
and fall upon us
with friends
new cokes slim jims leg warmers
byo latchkey