re.verb

last day of may the reverb

America. was the last day of may and all of the dead end streets look like never ending roads, and all the dead end relationships are enthusiastic pressing another go around with hopes one lucky night of what we once had may carry a small sound around and turn the johnny rotten back to first date territory with long lashes and laughter, and heal the deep gashes like reverb sweetening the deal, to hold a song’s triumphant note deep into the memory of the night, a stripped mall’s dollar store turned boutique, a dead end presidency turned back to camelot and kennedy days, a mid-preaching pause full of meaning, careless words begin to care, a rebellion to the cause of suffer leaning… it was the last day of may and we have a chance to be deep again, full again, and resonant
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44

four found a friend
in four

four and four made
of arrows

birds flyin cross
some tracks

of elbows
of arms

profile made
four -n- four
side by side

in prayer

and greater
than the sum of them
selves

with gods

the deuces held court
the days were short
inside them

the nights began
at eight

w(h)ip

Dead of winter
starry night
Fearful cold
bluish light
i find myself alone
again
after dinner thin
mint the charleston
a dance
i listen
watching you
see how you falter
fumbling at the altar
locked up inside
alone again
all whatever fabric
falls off
you listen
watching me
just enough time
to wave
goodbye
something quite amazing
will happen when
we leave
the body
behind

i wanna be electric

i got my ticket to chino in the outskirts of la trying to hit the grid and be captured by the cable i wanna be electric and extended stay america ina pocket just between the riveting room for you and me… a queen bed in a salt valley flat in the middle of november a room service setup so not to disturb alone in the center of a spiderweb of circuitry flashing mad in the pan like a siamese fighting fish all the betta to see you translucent of the soft sheets you ink on

unite like a night train unites with the night

september and we were super together and you were natural like a farmer to me you were a farmer and i coulda been a farmer’s wife with a farmer’s tan and your name written in raspberry juice up and down the curves of my chest and we would not be smiling all the time dripping with honeymoon anymore, for seconds maybe yes, but mostly working and class and working our ass off and classes with glasses cause i don’t see as good anymore gettin older, i guess and history looks a little different behind us if we were to look back upon the vistas without falling into it. i would rather fall into you and what you are doing, the hours behind a wheel of a truck, the 12 hour days or doubles, and yes i am single still, are you? if i pull with my arm will you blast your horns? shine your light this way, my love, we could unite like a night train unites with the night but the day will come when we see things for how they really are and would you want me then would i want you? i love you now and you care about me and that is a tasty concoction with shaved ice hoping not to get crushed at the foot of a celery stalk, melting the summer suns into autumn.

love.recklessly

Love your life

recklessly

like a spire
in the air
past some meddlin
point of
despair
like you
don’even
care
Love yourself
in the morning
all scraggled your hair
yawnin before coffee
and meds
kickin in
Love your life
 at night
when you
can’even
see
 in haystacks
    drunken alleys
and trees
 wall to wall
rolling wheels
of cheese
 second
to loving
no’one else
   dreamin
haunted
up to no good
at all
in mirrors
fancy clothes
long halls
in waders
rising up
jumpers
the fish
on your
 knees
Love your life
in cups
straight up
with no chaser
bent stemming cherries
an shaken
an stirred
collapsed
like umbrellas
When it rains outside
the mayhem
behind locked doors
open but screened
walled up within
thirstin for light
dreamin of pinups
and ticker tape
parades
pregnant with life
in floods and capris
glasses and ice flashes
in the sun
rooftop flashing
the sky for a
sign

KatYa ©2016