Mia Zapata

these heavy feelings

when i lack the strength to care 

set upon me 

kneeling there

they cannot stop my breath

from breathing my chest

from heaving

like an animal hunted

facing them i




the mortgage was due

the phone the electric and credit cards

the mercury rising we hit the store early

for milk and eggs and the happy baguette

i heard a song in the store and started singing 

along. a memory slipped away like a seal

off the pier deep into 

the bay



the wind howling in the winter. the road winding around the lake. the red barn with white trim. the icy stream and snow. we gathered around your pot belly stove for warmth. it’s memorial day. though i am too far from New Hampshire to lay flowers on your grave, i am thinking of you. the hot cocoa. your wicked laughter.  #katyamills

march 4

listening deep into the night to the radio 

reports from Poland Romania Moldova

the only invasion i know

by ants after a heavy rain

the only shells i know

pasta. the only oppressor

bad memories and nightmares

and an occasional ignorant 



what the whip poor will

1:11am. macrobid wages war

in the gut. i wake startled eyes

bloodshot hair reaching up and back

a victoria crowned pigeon i 

audit yesterday. submit my findings 2

the memory bank and retire at dawn 

floating prayers off the balcony

to my dear colleague

in the ICU


twenty thirteen

fentanyl hit the spleen

overdose became mainstream you

lost so many friends and legends and the sun still rises

the light still wakes you under

your angel hair cabbage you

formulate a mission you play with memory you

love and live on

and on

and on



what i would give

these memories to

reclaim how our

hearts beat the




the bottom of a well i 

kept drinking. archival footage 

slowly sinking flash drive 


many moods 

 like sound 

i’m thinking 

take the drive for a

ride to the river. bait it ona hook

cast it out to the mouth

of a bass 


12 going on 21

why you were left alone so long only the spinning world would know. by now. you know it hurts looking back. you made friends easy and what friends. a formula for trouble and trouble looks like anything but trouble at first.

reading #72