some beet faced drunk knocked

produce off the stand

dodging shadows stepped 

on garlic cloves 

the masks had just come off

that sound

the flesh breaking under 

paper skins

you paid me a compliment

 i – i wasnt sure i 

could take it    #katyamills

NOVEMBER 22. 1997

playing crazy eights listening to music

talking trash fighting getting high

twentysomethings in the late 1900s

spilling drinks spilling consciousness

on the dance floors of YBOR CITY

a blackout drinker in those days i

would lose my credit card and eventually

my wallet my shoes and my keys

my sanity. early hours of the morning

nothing but my clothes and my high on

and a couple phone numbers of friends

in my head.


#katyamills. remix’97

fall the fields

fall the fields arid
the vineyards patched out
from the sky

we worry the wind
we worry the skin of earth
and tree. shed out
and sprawling free

end of night

i follow the arc of the tip
of your cig.

you damned drunk!
and quietly stamp out
the berry