press mute

there’s nothing like the sound

of early birds of spring 

you gotta mute the commercials

to really understand

#katyamills

yes

The quality of life changed, i could sleep at night and stay up all day. i found an exceptional colombian coffee which filled my thermos with a couple spoonfuls of brown sugar and cream, and lasted all day long. i was happily employed in the art of conversation, beneath the surface of dysfunctional meet and greets. spring was coming on strong and every other person with allergies. the cats found entertainment in the yards, after a long winter indoors. i replanted my plant and set it on the windowsill where it prospered. my boyfriend took me for pancakes early mornings, and then we hit the depot for large sacks of mulch, five for ten, and i helped him toss them into the bed of the truck. he took them to the Delta for the orchards.  -KatYa, 2017

journal

journal. march seven

We hung on to the social medias lookin for compadres, someone who got us, who felt what we been through, so we could identify and reclaim our forgotten selves. our standard was downgraded to substandard. we were told our employ of social medias was a worthless trade and destined to further alienate us. why would we let them take us? why then let go, to fall on an easy clawed at chair of fake news? we held on tight, we lashed our wrists to the planks and spun around slow in electric current, just the same. we were hard-headed creatures not easily concussed. our hearts then soft, thawed into spring.

a fullness (in an empty space)

thoughts
softened before
summer

feelings
flooded the
plains

a cottontail
explosion

everything’s
up in
the air

immediate
light and easy
accessible

hovering around
the head

nocturnes
pressed out
on a baby grande in
some cathedral
of light

i prayed
all the spinal
locks be released
all at once

pardoned on
yawning steps

the
forgotten
hidden
temple

made of
hillside

lifted
our spirits

chanting
the souls
into silence

faith

all i wanted was nothing i needed
when wanting
my need
superceded

i was told life is work
i was taught to work hard

i never knew faith

i thought
to control

even the sun
had to learn
without spin
the earth burn

even the sun
cannot control
all it made
all it touched
verdant spring
so inspired

even the sun
needs some faith
every night
to surrender
every night
we remember

every life
owes a debt
toward the sun

every morning
when the light comes
every life
looks up

to credit
the sun
its creation

far away
from me now

may my blood
sweat and tears
be the same
so my needs
my want
supercedes

without it
the darkness
eternally
leads