mid august melody

you were space
you were operatic

i was listening
but could not hear

like a potted plant i
needed time to take on
water. once i drank
i was full

i need to paint my nails
a soft shell blue
to remember me
with you

you are angry
i am yelling
you are pacing
i am telling myself
not to cry

i believe i’m gonna
sound the pitch of railroad tie
a’buried in the ground

locked in there. to stabilize
a nation. split in two

i am crying the earth away
so i can see you
again. next to me
saying your sorries

they mean nothing
they mean nothing

i am space
washing saucers
operatic

you are history
you are gone

i am thinking of you
i am typing

you are reading
i am writing we are
dreaming we are
one

summer’s gone
and come

you are dreaming
i am typing we are
reading in the
sun

a song. possibly

Here are the lyrics to a song I am workin on (to be accompanied by my acoustic guitar which I have been neglecting terribly, poor thang)…

“Remember when you thought everything was going well and then it was not, when winter was too cold and summer too hot, another cup of coffee would pull ya through and it did, raised you up like a pup by the lids… some day you gonna be a railroad tie, no one gonna fuck with this guy, some day you can be railroad grade, swimming ona sea of marmalade… some day you gonna be a railroad tie, no one gonna fuck with this guy… some day you can be railroad grade, swimming ona sea of marmalade…”

so i saw somethin last night, like a vision, right
i had to let go of the past and move on. now.
so i am

have a wonderful fabulous fantastic effortless lighthearted brilliant day everyone
love and light

KatYa

yummy gummy vitamins

yummy gummy vitamins

My heart feels gummy like vitamins, flexible like you could push on it with the heel of your hand and it would bounce back so you knew i was still young to the faint drip of baseball through the radio in October, the Royals were unbelievably good again and I had been having a lot of contact. I guess I am still young. But I don’t see much of children anymore. I think they are a different kind of young, up to ten, still dreaming of the past lives while flying through the air, pendulums on swings. You could push on them with the heel of your hand and they would bounce back. God forbid they might fall from great heights, they would walk away unharmed, all cartilage, saved by being unformed. Not believing in death yet, wondering about the new life. Which adult was gonna boss them around next. That sorta thing… Kansas City was like a waystation back when the most important thing in the world was the goddam railroad and all those guys like Leland Stanford who got rich by it. Even my family lived there, generations ago, and they say fifty or sixty years ago it was what Vegas is now. Maybe I know too much. I go blank in the eyes when I remember ten years old, the pendulum, swinging, believing I was immortal. Really sorry to see the adults go, why cannot they live forever, too? Whose gonna boss me around then? I’m not gonna do my chores. I’m just gonna keep kicking my legs up and out to the sky. Why would I stop? I’m not on any clock, my heart is full of vitamins and I have been having a lot of contact. You can push me around. I won’t fall and even when I do, it won’t hurt. You can’t hurt me unless I let you. Come, let’s fall in love. We can live and love and last forever.