run on 4 hours sleep

ice cream for breakfast wash

it down with house coffee they

dont paint a great face they wont

talk too much smack they aint 

buttoned up in the finest fabrics 

they just work hard a long day

ahead and they mean it 

sincerely   #katyamills

semisweet end

when i die bury me pen in hand

typewriter for a stone. do not trust your sight

or touch the body scentless

cold and frightful in the ground

while my spirit seen there

wanderin the cemetery grounds leans

off a row whistling some

semisweet show tune


rockstar #1201

the city outside



they make

windmill inflections
metal-dipped harp strings 

a door off its hinges they

lean off the wall 

listening to it all
talking to self ina 

wistful way like a 

lost son’s