poetry. k

sure sure sure (circa 2011-12)

Don’t go-o   o-o-o
spans the world and
then falls alongside it as
you fall away


from one
another
and left by your lonesome
you
imagine (poorly) what it would be like to live alone

Had you been (alone) long enough
you would not be so worried
about being that way
(alone) imagining (poorly) what it would be like
to be coupled up again and
being one or the other
you cannot imagine
too well

Each morning
(when you come to)
Slap your face
girl. Drink your coffee
black

Wait   don’t go
be (mine) said the mirror
be ours

Ours be ob
literate
rated short of the qualite
verite

Ob
long
(traces hold on)
in song

Ob
literate
ate twice as much

Still you lack
still you come back
(comma)
feel
comme lit
vulva hood sensate
clit

Cut yourself
some slack
awkward awk
period (time of month)
once honored twice mocked
breast enhance in the fall
leaves something less
redux

Ack
look at that
rack
smiling eyes over the canyon
few inches average elevation
milk shake nation

ack awk gawk
heart attack

Sure sure sure
if you feel it
do it soon
sure sure sure
new
waxing waning full moon

Suresuresure
whatever
the moments momentum
needs your all you

got your attention

Kinda lead
kinda cheer

sure sure sure but
soon
employ
plot
devise

Sure sure sure
remember
memory
ember
the fire
the flame
flickers
falls out
back
to uncolored
to
the same

More of
less

wants you back…
wants you what
you want what
you track what
you back you
backtrack
ack

You go
getter
letter
deliver
soon
let her
sure sure sure
forever stamps
sure sure
those ones they them
thematic
whatever

Go
show her
get her
let her go
to the hills
to the fields
to the small patches
unseen
unheard of
let her

They will
they will rise
yes
sure for sure
for sure for her for sure
they will
we will
all will
get her

So no
more if ands buts
sew and stitch
soul seven sides spirit ways
and able
to table and blood
blood let
her

—  KatYa, 2016

navel label cinqø

navel (final) label #5

Meet me underwater, where all distractions die
The fish cannot be told what to do

When I was green I felt like an imposter
I felt older then, when I was younger I felt much older

I opened it for you too many times
the door. Because I was older but so much younger
in my ways. I made careless decisions as I
got younger

I wore blue jeans

Today is a lot different. I am running longer and longer
distances on my own along the river
for the first time in my life

I don’t know why
but I like it

Yesterday is forgotten though I won’t forget you
What were we doing? the nickel bags turned into quarter ounces
and rolled into dimes

You begin to appreciate arithmetic

the nineties changed me
more than any other decade
i think

and then i met you
you were one of the first to love
me changed

you in your descent
like a base jumper
over the rails
waving goodbye
in a wingsuit

throwing away everything
for a thrill

People get bounced like checks
before we fall. I wish you could
meet me underwater

where distractions die
social media cannot breathe

i am training my body like my mind
nobody told me how

i like to live by my spirit
and its longings

I am somebody no one else can be for you
you were somebody
to me nobody else
could be

a singular moving object
in a forest (of trees)
a label. without a navel

the only stillness
in a forest
(the trees)

navel label quattrõ

navel (touching) label #4

The fabric of life
a dust-colored thread

i will now hug you
so hard (your hat falls off)
while tickling the
backs of your
knees

archived emails with
comet tails (uncomfortably)
we watch them
disappear

entire social contexts
gone awry
(and)
the way you know i know ya
is textured like granola

and guns
and sons
of guns

cannot unravel
what we’ve come to love
about (our fair maiden)
weave city

sewn back together the
ends of days and
carefully self-placed in bed

head at the foot
foot at the head

eye of needle sees
the thread and
closes ranks

send in the dreams the
fortified milk the
hormone replacements
the fortified tanks

I might pull too quickly away
vacuuming the room to
do the dishes

dreamer
do the dishes dreamer
do the dishes

the track switcher the track
switches having seen your face
in my reflection

god i love to dream
with you about you of the tail end
of dreams where we
(begin)

(again)
your lips on my earlobe
untying the knots of a world
without touch

the blush of a crush
on the plush

mile high pile
the dust-colored fabric
of life

too fuckin’ bad to be
without a studio

you coulda
got it all
down

navel label trés

navel (orange) label #3

There are so many ways we came to greet one another, I knew the love was alive by this alone (no stale greetings, no hallmark cards). You came with flowers, I would surprise you from behind the door and rush into your arms… you might call down from an open window, warmly gazing at me on your elbows… I might do my eyeliner up in a signature Amy Winehouse kinda way with a twist… we might pretend like we were strangers, you would act like you were delivering a pizza — Is so and so home? I have an order for a Miss Mills… you would often be wearing my clothes.

russian river by Katya

Your arrival into my life had been so unexpected. I must have done something special to get you for a gift. I was alone and even lonely before I met you, I wonder now, did that have something to do with it? I would bring you pastries and coffee, your favorite kind. You brought me a paper once you took from the neighbor’s driveway. So what? you said, You can tell they don’t read them, there’s a half dozen on the lawn! (Yes, well, maybe they’re on vacation).

sky by K

We like it here in our little earthen corner of the wind sky water joint. Don’t we get along swell? I study you within the four walls, floor and ceiling. But never confined, no, always free you are to float toward or away from me and us and this condition cannot condition the unconditionable — that is you. You drive me crazy, whatever whomever however you are.

journal entry. date unknown.

And suddenly the long uneven thickening and thinning motion which we followed for days,  to some terrifying expanse of the same substance, which slipped through our hands and burrowed easily into earth, endless before us; suddenly jumped up into the air, unseen, and  immersed us, standing there. We tried to take cover, yet still could not escape it.

I shivered so long. I knew not would we survive. One of us took on a strange chill, became quiet and very hot to touch. Then ceased to be anymore. Another one then began to shake and call. Overtaken by the bitter salty substance fell out the eyes for days on end. They, too, would soon cease to be.

The rest of us finally understood. We fell down before the mighty moving creature. We prayed. Then cupped our hands around it, breaking some off from the whole (though appeared unbroken), and looked at one another one last time; then took it to the lips and raised our eyes to the sky, open pale of neck, and let the substance seep into ourselves! A most unusual feeling as it reached down into me! Further!

We waited. We then fell one at a time, to earth, and fell asleep awaiting.

Then rose I know not when or how! And smiled! And embraced one another! For we were still alive!

From this moment forward, we drank and followed the uneven line of this great, mysterious, borderless, lightness of mass. Trusting. Cupping it in our hands and hollowed tree limbs. It led us to verdant wonders never before seen, or known! We listened and the sound, once frightful, was now soothing us to sleep. The air was fresh, and colorful at times!

And in the mornings, sometimes, as light awakened life… we immersed ourselves entire, in cool and friendly waters still. Life would never be the same.

ness less rest

IF i was nude
without my clothes
wrapped in a blanket
feeling soft and thin
lying on your couch
in an industrial space
where the air is cool
but alive

if you were reading
poetry to me and i
was reading novel excerpts
between

if friends were welcomed
through the lovely living space
without any of age old appropriate hesitations

then the rains would slap
the leaded glass
surreptitiously

then the warmth between my legs
under your arms embracing

then the electric wait
before touch is over and helpless is real and beloved this moment of all that there is

then the realized infinite tenderness so palpable!

the fifth force validation so soft! loving! gentle!

so needless of words

then way out there with us in the ness ness ness less rest
ness less

be still
my memory revigorate
be kind my love
invigorate

pliable me
pliable you

light finds ways to the resting shade. it may be wondrous when it does so. non-chalant. when shadows flicker around these high walls candle lit

taper not
sweet memory

carry on bold to the next. precious life never fail! never falter! never leave! ever last

be still
be kind. let all past present future lives come together here. remarkably

anyone who still dreams
lets go of all you ever established
cherished institutionalized
yours

come read your little voice large into the clear seche vaulting expanse with us. up to the leaded glass high and ritual drumming of rain patter pitter

take off your clothes
wrap yourself in new vetements for once you are seen you are known you are you! you are loved explored like these pages these words these letters inscribed now released upon breath to honor the air

this moment these words from our bodies our ours! and forever. unsealed and exposed to the element

this is now magick. catch fire and cooled by the brick

when wishes went away

What i
wished 4
went away
not without a reach
a chase the
beach i reached
barefoot
i raced

i cast far up and down
pacific highway coast
out blurred and rocky
edge

out
to sea
it went
along that maladjusted spine
of shore

i was left
alone
feeling lost
in heavy
fog
sucking
effervescence
of undertow

sweet bliss
solitude
statements
crashing
into shore

fuck off
  fuck offf
     fuck offff 

lashing myself to friends
until
like tears
away from eyes
i pushed
off

i did not care
to see them or me or
what life was
really…

what was life, really?
without what i so wished
i so demanded
life
     to be

i gave away
my things
to storage wars
for peace

peace
she proved elusive
she ran
the park
off leash

i chased her up a tree
i would not let her be i
would not let it
not yet
it had to can’t you see?
not yet you see i…

see i
auctioned off
my faith
to educated whores
who bid me down
to earth
the ground
was barren

i knelt i turned pockets out for
seeds from Faulkners yard my
drunken pilgrimage

i gathered them with whisky
down beneath a tree in ninety-seven or was it nine?

Oxford
Mississippi
clay

i found the magic
seeds i did! but
ground was frozen
solid so i fell and
hit my head

like Faulkner
from his horse

a sinkhole opened wide
where my blood once
circulated
seven? ninety-nine or
was it?

my family
just a photograph
my life
fading
    silverfish
            fast

a-z mart -fin)

We breathe life into stale situations. We are often obsessed with creating our creations. We try and listen to all other minorities. We try and not abuse power, when in the majority. We like to beg, borrow or steal ice cream sandwiches. For a meal. We feel the moon the same way everyone else feels the sun. We are not vampires, but we can relate. We love music, and have strong opinions. We cook whole turkeys to feed our minions. BDSM does not bother us slightly. Dominatrix, as common as guitar lix. We will tell you kick rocks if we want to, if you’re lucky. Or grant amnesty, and forgive you for all kinds of disrespect. Compassion is our practice, and available to all. Though it may not feel compassionate, when your ass gets kicked off our wall.

We do not blow sunshine. We prefer to absorb it by our skin. Anti-all-things-ignorant may be our purpose, but it’s not that defined. We tend to embrace those who embrace us. We can be dangerous and kind.We like to reign down terror over all microphones. It’s usually a method of letting go. So that terror does not act out, outside of a show. We may wear too much makeup, or none at all. We prefer an honest face, to one that is sentimental or tough. We rarely believe that enough, is enough.

What makes life worthwhile to us, is not up for discussion. We do reserve a space, for those who never belonged. If you want to find this space,  you can usually start at the heart. Go inward. Feel your way out of there.

yesk

We ride fixed speeds and ten speeds. We DIY , and we do come together. We drink horchata to balance our cultural hangovers. We are skaters. We prefer the X Games to the Olympic Games. We like to carry backpacks all over the place. And less for the stealing than for grounding ourselves in any space. We know homeless and squatters and gypsies, alike. We may be them or have been. We see them in government office lines where we all stand. Or public squares, free to congregate types of affairs. Or protests. Or movements. The point is: we see them.

We work really hard, when we find something worth working on. We tag the city, down side up. We have some fun. Take generous breaks. We watch eachother’s backs. We live alone, persecuted by painful thoughts. We suffer from a variety of mental disturbances. We create an ongoing disturbance in the world. We are the tension that holds us together. We are less than comfortable most of the time. We cannot condone hero worship for long. We own the formerly blood clotted marks, left in doors and on walls. Memento to some punk ass show at some shady dive club or former bowling alley, some brick box now likely marked for death. Or gentrified into smaller brick boxes with subzero refrigerators and double pane windows. And essentially marked for death.

We are indelibly inked and tatted up. We rarely believe that enough, is enough. We breathe life into stale spaces. We bring change, in rhythms and waves. We love to look up toward the moon, at night. We are working class by choice. You can hear our voice. We tag the walls. We laugh alot. We know squirrel and bird calls. We come in many colors, and will weave into our lives and yours. Our fabric is like denim. We offer protection, without abandon. We may frighten you. But we are not really frightening at all. In fact, we denounce fear every chance we get. We denounce ignorance in all its forms and faces, with abandon. Just as we love, with abandon. We laugh, with abandon.

We live, with abandon.

Katya Mills, 08/13 katyamills.com

people work better when driven (insane) -viii)

People work better when driven, like rain. Not like nails through plywood. Not like slaves. Nothing narrow. Driven to a point as deep as bone marrow. Where the levee breaks. The point of overflowing. To the point where sanity and reason dead end. Where we may become highly emotional and sensitive. Where we conduct electricity and switch channels, facile (with ease, if you please). Irrational? for certain. Intelligence? Beyond standards. Insane? Well, not sane, in the best of any sense of not sane. A psychosis? Perhaps. Psychotic break? not necessarily. Long past the neurosis? Most likely. Ferocious? Like a tiger. Outlawed? Most definitely, like the wild are outlawed from your tea parties.

unedited

sachomes #1 by k

What american culture seemed to have lost sight of, somehow, somewhere in the past;  was the continuity and emergence that soon comes to pass. That dead end or limit, got taken literally, indeed. Never mind if travel may continue on foot. If left unbound and not institutionalized, unmedicated in some cases, people can get relocate themselves in the land of the lost. What by all appearances looks hopeless, even criminally insane? May find self-remedy, in the realm of the spiritual. The soul has no ordinary bounds, you see. The soul was made for being extraordinary. This is the soul’s inclination.  Past the point of knowing, really nothing is clear. Past the point of comfort, the mapped out area. Past the well worn territory of both mind and body. Past the breakpoint of rpms in your Ferrari. Past familiar. Out of area. Quite impossible, and why? Because part of our nature needs to learn how to fly.