being American
was wonderful
terrible
over a water blue
and under an alternate sky
we sucked on red
hot sweet
candy
being American
was wonderful
terrible
over a water blue
and under an alternate sky
we sucked on red
hot sweet
candy
days we looked up
amazed at the sky still in its deep blues
what all that went down in the dirt
here on earth
#katyamills
i am inside and i wanna get
out. i gotta go
get into a fix
life
gives no sanctuary
but in the
living. what i got
i created. i gave it! your will
was mine! i snatched it back
i clung to it
then it disappeared
i was alone. i got older
and could not believe
so much time had
passed
i wanna go out! get lost in
a cloud i am
inside. i’m not afraid to run barefoot
cut up alot in a city
scape
i oughta. this whole scene is dangerous
soft factory air makes me. i
am inside out
fuck it. gimme a map
the closest emergency
exit. i will take it!
break the controls off bad
and i gotta get out
of my head and the news
is so terrible
not another screen
i need something to believe
in. the sky
wind beats around the heads of palm trees
kids flirt with chlorine ina concrete pool
what a violent sky
what a chemical
ultraviolet
spill
a starless sky
moving sea
a diving hawk
you and me
moving
the sea
the starless
sky
turn around
eternity
Outside the sky is a canvas and all our forms are drawn against it. the leaves this time of year make everything timeless like the day I was born.
a half-sunken bridge spanned a boggy marsh and every other year or so someone from the adjacent towns there was lost, never to be found. boundary lines were redrawn which made the bog a sorta no man’s land and no one had to claim the dead upon their land. children were outlawed from crossing the bridge and when they grew into teenagers the bog became a common hideaway where adults rarely looked. were they to be sought out, they would not be found. for those who wished to be left alone would never be seen again. only the bog and the bridge, and the sky kept the secrets.
we are not so unlike clouds in the sky, are we, puffy and bleached turning gray, you can see through us and other times opaque we hide our secrets inside us, coming for us and striking through they do, yet still we remain intrinsically unscarred or untouched, reflecting it all sea to sea and the earth, where we travel we leave the residue our prints passing silently along, forensics loves a cloud, made of water and vapor we are and capable of many forms, evocative of endless feelingstates, containing our own electromagnetic storms we are carried by winds and made by trial and fire, under certain conditions we scatter and the streets become empty and clear like the sky, monotonous, monochromatic we are pressured by fronts and driven to tears
My super sky blue kite hurled itself into the ground, stabbing the earth when the wind no longer had its back. Oh how it shuddered all over before falling flat on the ground. Only the skeleton held up at the cross. How nice when someone has your back, I thought, you can even touch the sky! For a spell but don’t count on it lasting. I pulled the string off of my toe and rolled it back onto the spool. My poor toe was ringed in red for a while where the wind had left its mark. All the blades of grass rubbed up against me, supposing they had a chance. A girl doesn’t take her ring off for nobody.
I got on the subway which could very well have been super the way it jumped up out of the earth at times before slanting down and diving back into the darkness. The halogen lights stayed flickering on all the time so we could read and see one another and maybe not be scared. There’s a difference between a commuting train and a roller coaster, unfortunately, and nobody much asks about your commute or if they do it’s only because they don’t what else to talk about and god forbid the silence. I imagined if there were no lights other than the sunlight, how all the cell phones and kindles would show underground and the people holding paperbacks and newspapers would all collective sigh and have to wait for a while, or god forbid meditate in the dark. What this Faux Froid culture of fear might do.
There was a man following me with his eyes and then his feet, as we stepped off onto the platform at Lil Bit’s stop. I had a feeling it wasn’t his stop unless it was mine. Just a feeling but you know how they’re always telling you to trust your intuition. I had a block to walk to get to her house, which was really just an apartment but nonetheless a home. I might only have to wait for her to answer the door. I tried to calculate in my mind the number of seconds I would need to escape the grasping arms of the man, so I would know exactly how fast to walk.
I sure hope Lil Bit’s not flossing her teeth when I get there. She can be a real perfectionist about her teeth, you know. — Read the whole story: HERE