8.10

there was a way. you could not go to bed a moment after nine. you could listen to the BBC and lie there between sleep and consciousness, or actually fall asleep. you could not get up a moment before five. you had to care for the animals before yourself. stretch the body and mind. you could say a prayer if you believed in gods or try to get your true feelings out. then a cold and hot shower for to see both sides of life. some boiled oats with sugar and coffee. there was no other way and the rules they kinda made themselves. #katyamills

bloom

get up and say a prayer. drag these 50 year bones to the kitchen. pull the bag of beans out of the freezer and and grind them by hand while the tea kettle fires water to a boil. memories begin to percolate in my styled bed head. the whistle. the first splash into the ceramic cone lined with filter is to let her bloom over the mason jar. the thoughts are beginning to breathe. images of new england and chicago and the road between them. clockwise over the grounds and feelings are bubbling up now. long slow exhalations. it’s between four thirty and five. the frothy brown liquid is ready. deep blue yosemite mug. pull my hood over my head, open the sliding glass door and walk out into the dawn. i have to leave the past behind or it will kill me. just listen to the morning birds. just watch the sky fill with light.

#katyamills

farewell to a peaceful sunday

it started so well. a cool morning after a hot day in the valley. my love came to see me and we read the newspaper together on the balcony. like any couple on any sunday morning going back a hundred years. the prime minister of Japan had been assassinated. i went to prepare coffee and discovered one of the cats was missing. somehow the front door had been left open. my heart sank. we searched and searched. i called and whistled and called before falling into an emotional flatland. i went online to distract myself from the shock. one of my old friends whom i survived addiction with  – initials DC –  had been homeless on the streets for many months now. farewell to a peaceful sunday.   #katyamills

coffee slut

our breakfast joint kicked us out. covid rules. paper cups and bags to go

so we sat down in the lot unwrapped our sandwiches and ate

a honda with a coffee slut bumper sticker was running up on the curb 

you got up and helped her park. she thanked you by standing there 

spouting how ukrainians are all nazis and vaccines give us covid 

her toenails bright ugly orange over my pastrami bagel

the best thing about being on the street is you’re not a captive

audience   #katyamills

april 25

the kid at dutch bros this morning handed me my annihilator with light ice. i asked: how are you? i had a dream last night, he said. i was back in high school and late for a physics exam on chapter 5 and my ride fell through. i woke up completely stressed… i offered him a quick interpretation of the dream. i hate you! he said, i don’t want to know anything about myself!

#katyamills

small pleasures

glass bottle coca-cola
free wifi in laundromats and libraries
youtube tutorials 4 DIY operations
cheap cigs from chinatown
free exchange of labor (aka home depot parking lots)

crossing the state line to gamble on sports
puff powder clouds on blue sky days

cold brew coffee

#katyamills

various shades of green

5 days i polished the temple with soap water a bristle brush on hands and knees bucket and rag liquefying greens ina blender i could go on like this forever without meat fish dairy sugar bread. painting the walls various shades of green… dear god… not without coffee #katyamills