like any american
she was in debt
in the wealthiest country in the world
pressing the last bit out toothpaste out of the roll
easy with cash
when she was drunk
#katyamills
Tag Archives: american
alternate sky
being American
was wonderful
terrible
over a water blue
and under an alternate sky
we sucked on red
hot sweet
candy
century HK
as a kid in Germany
he tangled with hitler youth
in 1938 got out alive
enlisted in WWII with the Allies
got a gold star tracking down gestapo in his homeland
went on a sociopolitical
lean. advisor to every US administration imaginable!
2022 kicks back in New England
working on a century
recorded by the
BBC
#katyamills
american farm
headlong
into your production
up at scratch every morning
intermittent flapping of eyelash
your ineffable ways
like the moon but not a phase
ina daze you amaze
every harvest
#katyamills
a chance
waking up
useful and alive and awake
with a chance. come what may
every american
oughta be given this
experience
#katyamills
katya reads #30
world of black of white
The beauty in being American was and still is the freedom to set your sights on a lifestyle you dream for yourself and go after it with all your spirit and cleverness and nerve. The hurt you feel when you fail is yours and yours, alone. Maybe it will lead to a dead end street and bar or romance. An ashtray full of butts. 24 hours of loneliness can be hell. And then your back in the game, if you’re young, the world is black and white.
death of a weekend
I get an eerie sensation on a sunday night standing on the precipice of the death of a weekend. I get the kind of rattled only a vanilla shake in an American diner can quell, listening to Elvis on the jukebox with friends, in a booth upholstered in automotive leather, flirting and killing off time.
made american
I was made American
One shoreline will never do
I need two
Life gets better with wind
and rain and all the idol rock stars
sucked into the muddy banks
of sound
early
early morning americans
struck a balance with all, in the city in the summer after dawn, when the morning bird was heard and the sun at eye level, playin hide and seek behind deciduous trees, while the cat trailed you partways to the cafés, and the barista knew your name without asking, and the statesman laughed and folded his newspaper and nary a phone was ringing, the time was reserved for a church bell and silence. americas were thick with technology, in the cables in the air, and you wouldn’t need to care in the early, early mornings. in the city on the streets, face values appreciated and if you looked past the wheels and the burden of homes that were carried, you were sure to find an honesty and goodness that survived any standing recession, knew more than money and politics combined, and had a penchant for pastimes of early morning. as deep as any faith, the devotion. rise and shine, america!
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| k. early morning devotée |
K IS SILENT 