6.11

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

#katyamills

5.30

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

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


#katyamills

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

#katyamills

(from) memory

journal #

i would never see Drama alive again. i came back 5 months later from rehab in Oregon, to claim him. they said he had been struck by a car at an intersection not far from where the our mobile home had been. i buried the poor little guy up in Martinez, in the hills. i felt terrible. but all the nightmare i lived over the previous 4 years, was over. i had been beaten, downtrodden, and become willing to let go of all my old ways. i resolved to live differently, to live right, if only i had a chance to live again…