we went on a walk. the clouds were trying to hem in the sky. a man played tug of war with a pitbull. we talked about society and how people find one another through attributes they lack. ten baby geese waddling to the pond. connections can help you get ahead but what’s ahead? is it money? visibility? business? fame? all of that and an insatiable sense of loneliness. #katyamills
Tag Archives: business
profile of a rainmaker. 1950
what with his fancy suits and rolodex he
brought all kinds of business to the firm and great parties
and for that he was appreciated in NYC
yet nobody knew how he truly felt about anything
the only evidence he had he belonged
was a pulse
submerged in vodka fallen
ona plastic sword
miasma of garlic
and capers they
brokered a deal for
colored lights whirling
around this fishbowl
carnival some called
the run on
The run on sentence ran on and on and on and on…
The need to stop was critical. The need to stop and get quiet. The day was about to dawn. Business. Business was about to go boom. Which only, which only accelerated the need. Things would naturally accelerate, after dawn. Needs and things.
Dawn was the flavor of the day.
The day, about to dawn.
It was dawn.
The run on sentence ran on. From the night before, when she started running. Not away or toward, just on. All night long, before the dawn. Despite any desire to the contrary, the sentence ran on.
Still, the need to stop was mission critical.
The need to stop, still, at dawn.
An objective was percolating. Percolating @ dawn. What with the coffeepots, and all over the place… Kettles straight-up whistling out in so many ways, varying by the size and material of the pot. Diverse kinda whistling, all over the place.
Churning out the boiling blood of the city.
Business was about to go boom. The subject, become object. An exciting time, indeed. For some. For some this was exciting. Others slept right through it. All the way to the bell of the stock exchange, which maybe woke them violently. Or maybe not.
The subject became the object. For only a while. Because the need to stop was critical. Bookends were helpful, in stopping things, before and after the boom. Before and after all business went boom.
The run on sentence ran on and on. And on…
Before and after business. Before and after dawn. Before and after the whistles and bells. Before and after the dance of subject, with object.
Before and after, before and after.
Always percolating and predicated
year of diminishing returns # i
She was what she was
the year of diminishing
In the year of diminishing returns,
(to humor your ass)
(our collective behinds)
(our bubble goose cabooses)
our pony-up (when they demanded the triple crown stallion)
Nothing left up to anyone (no one)
(that means all of us, diluted with equal parts tap water)
(not even those who got degreed in creative license…
(those lucky scrapers off the bottom barnacles)
heartburn (also certain, it seems)
untold darkness (certain and unexpected)
over non-extant (certainly does not exist)
sky unfold (whats sky? ) (no one knows)
unfurled (untold untoward unsightly wrinkly unkempt)
dilapidated far to one side extremities (a factual account)
Fallen like (mighty) trees felled
told (telled) lies (to keep the truth a mighty distant memory)
(to keep investment in trust at an exact. ie. precise, all time minimum)
(sounds great like bargain basement prices) (but isn’t great)
to fuck off! (told but only in ways unspoken)
(like a text sms)
(or a brief email)
or a blocked call (every time you call its straight to voicemail, friend)
or a slimy rock uncovering
secondhand news set on fire
and (thrown through your bayless window)
(if youre lucky 2 have a goddamn window)
or parentheses that have taken over
their own use (of) themselves))) ((it so)) (appears)
now you got air to put into it
(a terrible joke).
a single year (thankless eternity seeming)
that means 365 m.fucker days (!)
of bending over and taking it (see, nothing 4 the imagination really) (just the edge of the mattress)
no matter what class (clown).
haughty felt sense (ego-toad).
We all have our declassified (ie raped)
b. grade (non-virgin)
hid just under our (potential in most cases) A-grade
sub-lemonade (like submarine. aka. damn torpedoes. sunk from our conscious knowing)
deeply entrenched(they call it good 4 survival)
in any shelf (aka earthen crust, water soluble)
of any material
(even the rooted consistency of mamas marmalade)
(laid in the area forbade)
(below the patch of shade whereby sets down roots
(citric) acid touch of jade (still grabs hold like marmalade)
(ma now under scrutiny (turning orange) swears she ain’t made)
in us (this egg no one claims to have laid)
fancy prohibition era grade
(and if you think u dont)
(u will find yours)
legged (h.sweet h. labelled) swill.
You will get yours! (just knock the secret knock)
my dear (ally of the underground rail snail)
im sorry (you can’t go begging for rotgut, afterall it seems)
We are all so (lonesome)
in this year
re(setting) of re(sun)
re(inforced) stereotypes (labels)
re(experienced trauma (ptsd)
re(d) eyes burning with fires of re(cent) happenstances elongated
like m(urder) in our m(inds)…
Im sorry (or may say so, just to say in a way that suggests the contrary)
let me start again.
Pity we are all so (lonesome)
in this year
of dim (not bright)
in (certainly in is out)
ish (oh how i wish) (u wish) (wishing-well-wished)
re(setting) of re(sun)
re(inforced) stereotypes (labels)
re(experienced trauma (ptsd)
Re(d) eyes burning with fires of
re(legated) far back
in our (crossing our) (always crossing our)
m(inds) if not B-fore
then be(lated) like
e(longated) like another
shadow (carrying over our form)
stretching and pinning us
(like some application to your desktop)
(like some eyes behind the blue heron)
(like some nametag to some name)
(like some car accident to some pavement)
like some beyond the grave
the publicity scandal
all your possessions
like storage lockers unpaid (for 90 days)
up for grabs
all what came
the year(ya, this one here)
declared (or were declared)
copper and tvs and mayday tension. 2012.
The mayday 2012 oakland happenstance forced my hand. I wanted to write about the evils of television. I was not near done with that monster. But here I am right in the heart of the great tension in our country. The attention lavished on the occupy movement again has payoff for those operating peripherally to the scene. The copper cowboys have stripped another west or east side apartment, business, church, school, of all its copper plumbing and wiring, to sell off the the tune of black market gold, again. This is a lucrative business for those who have no other way to get through another day on the scraps the well off leave on the sidewalk like treats to be devoured by the first thirsty one to come along. Copper has clear value and is clearly left vulnerable because no one ever imagined this shit being stripped and ripped off, so wow, there is a good example of how times have changed, the public conscience has to get over it and adapt to the new ways.
What are the desperate and hungry felons and small-time pushers and pimps and match men supposed to do? Feign peace and tranquility? Believe me they are gonna stay true to their skills, and dedicate themselves toward their own version of the American dream, which sadly is often just having one’s basic needs met with a cushion for some reassurance it won’t all get pulled out from under them tomorrow. No joke. Everyone’s looking for a mark or a handout, times like these. Everyone’s getting stripped naked and pushed around and evaluated for fortitude or cased out for vulnerabilities. Respect is hard won and easily withdrawn, on the streets here. Hypervigilance is one method to keep self-worth together.
The fire hydrants long since lost their worth. Stripped of copper fixtures. The train tracks became a challenging landscape for continued skirmishing, the 99% ers trying to continue to eat and stay warm and sleep, letting the single percenters know that the price paid for amassing inexpressible amounts of wealth far beyond satisfying of wants and needs, was a society getting stripped of any decent public amenities, or else plastic would have to again become the scab picket line crosser and offer a fischer price kinda fix for the public’s safety, and because there was no other answer to the movements lately moving, the Occupy movement, the SEIU movement, the Anonymous charge across previously unchallenged firewalls surrounding all the confidential valuable evidence of the true nature of wealth getting wealthy in a country practically on sale to treasury-rich China and other highly intelligent growing shareholders preparing for the USA‘s next bake sale, another private offering, initial, secondary, tertiary…it has got to be done! in the face of economic fragility, real estate discrepancy, silicon valley bubble-forming and pressing on and on, full of hot air at the height of 1999, and liable to repeat itself from here on forward, 2012, just you wait and see, because the stock market is most enjoyed when the single percenters are fucking channeling your 401Ks and 403Bs into inflated, modelled, masked, hotrod web presences who will fly into celestial released confetti drops of cashed in stock options called to earth mere days after IPO‘s hit the tape, despite ongoing efforts to prevent the maelstrom, grassroots bodies en masse to block off the wall street circulation this summer, just to maybe stop some deals from going so smoothly, due to disruptions unanticipated and costly, perhaps.
Who knows? Who cares? We shall see the evolutions on both ends and rarely meeting, unless in violent shoutdowns and teargas and eardrum shattering fireworks here in big Oakland where the culture’s litmus test continues to confront and fail the people in a certain sad kinda way. Leaving the anarchists like buzzards afterhours, tearing up the businesses and corporations without any sense or purpose, just unleashed anger and misguided childish rebellion not to be tolerated.
The good people come back at dawn to clean up after the bitches. And the political response has a matte gray aura surrounds it. Meaning the fear possesses those in office, they cry out for help when shit happens, the media picks up on the crisis and captures what once again becomes a circus on broadway and 14th by the tribune tower there in oakland rising high. And don’t think for a second that joining a circus is all kicks and giggles, nah, you got real tigers and lions and elephants could crush ten men in a sudden fit of stampeding rage. And have. To protest their captivity. Their condition. Well, see the parallel? We got people, humans, sentients, who find themselves truly in captivity, forced to go through certain repetitive motions to simply exist in a tolerable fashion in the cities of our dear country! hey now, this is not wonderful. Not at all.
This is the truth, I can testify to the condition myself. For the capitalist element of the democracy has not allowed for loose ends and generosity or forgiveness, not to anyone. Nothing is spared, not a cent! These companies cannot afford to let a penny slip out of the balance sheets, cause the roadshow will go sour and the institutional holders will drive their stakes down, which will reflect to the savvy managers of hedge and mutual funds, who will reflect back to the backroom analysts who keep a general eye on the makeup of any and all given industries, and start to see and send a benign tremor through the wires, possibly developing through poor communications not quite accurate all the time, and sinking an otherwise beneficial and industrious presence on the basis of a question mark in the currents (rumor mixed with analytical fact) at best.
But the moneys gotta go somewhere! for goodness sakes! So there’s hardly time to find a spot on the trading floor in any major city’s exchange, just to bid up a lesser known quality hyped hard over Petron Sunrises and the exchanges, the deals on the putting greens, the handshakes in the Don Cesar old world style beachfront hotels dotting the east and west coasts…always a couple selling points short yet their is often a favor owed to someone for some past allocation of OUR monies into a less than certain gamble.
So the social etiquette and the kissing of asses and the grieving of the lifestyles, the pressures, the big money, the market makers, the attitudes, the competition beyond healthy levels, the fear driven dollars, the lazy money, the GIFT, the tax workaround plan B on the down low or right up like oil on water if the gamble paid off…. because then the publicity can be bought nice.
The treachery, the envy of wives, the pretension, the ugly collision with ivy leaguers, the nepotism, the patriarchy, and at the end of the day it could be cover your ass time CYA indeed! breaking up paper trails and sending SEC overworked underpaid unwelcome agents off the tracks and into the nowhere like stairs leading up to nothing but the ceiling. Pyramid schemes gone off into our pockets to smooth the uninformed into guaranteed momentum carrying forward until you cannot hide from the stink of it, then all falls back upon itself and all the numbers crunched up and digested by the shameless sociopathy of some faceman who knows only how to relax and calm nerves with a word or to of self-flattery and shoddy use of street science, yet unable to back up and continue to act like you know. Because you don’t know.
I am saddened by the mayday affairs, oakland, 2012. But its of less significance to me than the battle against the lightbox we face in our homes, those of us who have homes. For I believe in no greater cause than helping you, me and everyone everywhere, escape the savage and brutal addiction to this once marvel of engineering become luxury item become mass-produced producer of idiocy via artificial contrived morality tales to snakeskin sales pitch to fear-propragating political weaponry, become feng shui killbot 2000, become that which we must now look out for as gravity takes it from the arms of the desperate and suicidal multitudes who have lost all personal integrity and dignity and in reactionary thoughtfully thoughtless rage, find immediate end to all projected yet false happenings which have made superfluous the very lifeblood flowing through them, to the sole singular purpose of pressing a few simple buttons to todays essential pseudo life-giving (soul stealing) contrivance or advertisement or other lobotomized offal better known to drainage pipes and sewer systems and other some such forgotten, abandoned, set away from human senses so as not to offend, offendors of our tentative and more than ever before gelatinous hold on society, culture, and inspirational zeitgeist! The television seduction.
So sorry, i have become transparent. No longer a scientist! Please forgive the tactic, and accept this editorial! We have come to this point of great desperation, my friends, and desperate times often require bold courage acts of great manipulation and redirect of whats left of sentient minds toward consciousness of our aims (which you must believe are also your aims!)…in all, to put down and destroy all record of TV and her clear drugging and brainwash and degradation and attempted genocide of hearts and minds on this earth (if not others). She is the queen of dark matter and starsuck and star-spitting violence beyond religion, power, politics, money, economy, and encompassing the universal mind and all its contents (that means basically, everything). And fyi, if you have no faith or reason to believe myself (seeing how i have hijacked your pleasant daily chosen readings), feel free to check out the facts and the truth. Check wikipedia for more info on what has become known (by me) as the predatory alpha sparing no culture, power sucking anti-consciousness devil of all devils! (That’s TV). Thank you, good people of planet earth. Any queries may be sent to myself at email@example.com. I may not respond to most or all of your queries or comments, but know that if you support this cause or agree with any of the aforementioned statements, you are certainly heard and known to me and all of my comrades fighting the good and only fight worth fighting, to take back our telelobotomized heads.