we watched westerns

people struggling
people gettin’ angry gettin’ loud
everything burnin’ in the sun spell
people in the city park
wading into the fountains
oblivious

people gettin’ high
people gettin’ drunk
staring at the sky
hittin’ a goldmine
hittin’ a vein
barely gettin’ by

people bein’ offensive
mistakin’ themselves 4 radicals
people bein’ abusive
mistakin’ themselves
for anarchists

everyone wants a headline
even a recluse

sometimes
late at night
other times
middle of the day

sometimes
bottom of the first
tagged by heat
hash brown
eyeballs yellow

ready to steal
flagged
indiscreet

sunny side staring
up from the
plate

after a spell
feelin’ so done with it all

we
we watched
westerns

loss three

another loss -iii

I was in
between pages
a book without
binding

You let me stay
with you
one night
a moment’s notice

we were friends
our lives derelict
unusual

the music
the midnight
oil

bands like us
cannot make it
no more

traded street level
stories

left out
again. in the sunlight
soon to be
exposed

before dawn

you were kicking
back. i was several back
packs deep to and from
Magnolia street

several unsavory characters
wanted a piece
of me they
could not catch
me

thank god
for this
bicycle…

when pennies were copper

mag wheels for eyes
roll out in silent film
silver screen dyes

down walkways
floorlit and salted
and buttered with
scenes

of someone else’s storied
childhood

long legs falling in love
with strapping lads on streets
paved flat by
pennies

land without
cell phones

a sunday. 1955
a city. 1959

when churches were
sanctuaries

mark the time
by the bells and
the sun

we rest on
bloody knees

the automobile
extinct

home. 1936
the sky. 1910

the pool
1920 and two metres
deep

the denim
1969. when pennies
were copper

the board
she saw better
days

cut elbows
in ink

porcelain cheap
for the poor

inscripted
the names
in powder blue
soap

sliding down rails
to the subway

we saw better
days

laughter echoes

a certain
despair

– KatYa, July’17

12.

twelve

Twelve went out for a run at eleven only to be liquefied by noon. A group of children roaming free for the summer came across the silver tracings and got down, low to the ground, and dipped their fingers into the silt, looked at one another and laughed. They painted their faces and tracked twelve back home. Lodged in the system for good and no longer alone, twelve struck twice a day and made himself known.

1984.kids

July came along and nobody knew our names
the fireworks were popping
no one could see them
they peppered our ears

we checked the sky
the powder had ignited
the oxygen burned
the paper falling to ground

after dark
we saw the snakes flying
umbrellas of light
the stars draped by the tails

slowly we recognized
who we were
motionless
cars and voices
and our names being called
in the night

cars and voices and our names
being called

motionless
in the night

our names
being called

– KatYa, 2017

peaches

peaches. subsumed

all the rest
made me only more tired

so i stopped sleepin

now im

trackin shadows
cross the wall

while my ice cubes

wave water trails

into ginger ale

rattlin the cubes

against the glass

to remember you

the man above me

looks off the wall into space
dreaming of life
with someone real

i am sunk into a couch

like buried treasure

all the gouramis gape at me

silent kissing

an air bubble
tough feelings to feel inside
more than i can handle

i

rattle the cubes

to remember you

another character
jumps off a page

into my heart

i wonder bout the man

the life in two

dimensions. how safe not having

a back to watch

not being real

how safe

how dry
how terrible

you cannot
lend a friend

a hand or take a stand

brushed off

like you are. canvassed

for meaning

pretty rendition

come into my heart!

lemme hold you there

make you real

i rattle the glass

and remember you

wax inwards

street sweep the cottons
real estate gets pricey
along the ear canal

listen
i need an extension

of gratitude
outward. my ideals are almost met

almost

there is

there is
still time yet

one

journal # june one

Couldn’t stand you but
the weather was
fine

I was under it when we got home
and the heart seated in the center
of the bloody thing
making it go

Organized chaos and classified a mess
your up style had gone down
the eggs scrambled
mostly whites the yolks fell
outta fashion

Couldn’t stand it
i mean together

The coffee was too
white i mean
mixed
up with what the cows
gave

I think it all started
i mean ended
in 1992