1995 self

mistaken for a German boy

a belly full of phobia they 

didn’t even know their own 

pronouns


shy of six feet slapped 

incomplete wasted on whisky

lost in books and city streets
typing mad into the night full

with misgivings

fists into bricks black belt

in broken hearts


#katyamills

k and k

baseball cap on
backwards
tomboy
bad news
the original
skinny
acidwash
jeans
tore up old
self. like usual

a taller you
a bad hair day
no bra. ya
wool cap
spinning around a
middle
finger
scratcher bingo by
a switchblade
gettin’ high

wow
twenty ten
just look at us
then
the madness
the sadness
followed us
haunted us
still i long to
remember

the way you
touched me
gave me
chills
weight of an eighty
impala beneath us

reading our poems
aloud and again
the fortune of
finding a
friend
oh why
oh why
did it all
have to
end

katya mills

© 2018

this moon is not pink and they-them-theirs never will be

Though you call them the ‘pink moon’ and dress them in floral prints of the season, the full moon tonight will show their true color to you tonight and let you be let down (or up), and they will light your faces up so they can see how happy or sad you are to see them so. And they will shine upon the phlox they were misnamed after, whose flamed flowers will rise in unison to the top of their stems to peer upon them, and feel their power of persuasion, and the feeling will feel full and beneficial and the phlox flower water will become bubbly and pour pink champagne into the trumpet of the lily. All will at very least acknowledge the full and vibrant moon for their mighty refusal to be classified, categorized, denigrated, or diagnosed. Darwin may well be confused, yet his curiosity a contagion the whole world could catch. The moon was a kind moon, a gentle moon, a moon of many colors, and kept their feelings somewhat to themselves, so not to disturb the galaxy.

little children made a song they like to sing
every april comes around…

then one day 
the pink moon got away
turned blue 
for me and for you
happily and for 
ever

too

pervasive sustainable organic sweetness

I was at a local cafe watching how friendly the barista was with everyone and me. She makes you feel like you have a personal connection, you feel loved. For women and kids (and a few men), she comes around the counter to give you a hug. I almost felt cheated to see that I was not the only one. How dare you love them like you love me. She put extra caramel in my macchiato, though, so I decided not to slap her face. She was tall and black and thin, and possibly transgender. Sweetness pervaded everything she touched. I trolled the bottoms of my cup with a straw to suck it up. I tried to listen to my friend who was monopolizing the conversation today. But I liked to listen to her, she was smart and funny, and I was tired of listening to the voices in my head. They weren’t very nice. Not today. They wanted me to know what a loser I am. They haunted me with the trainwreck of my past. More people came in and got more love. If it wasn’t for the caffeine and extra caramel, I would have made a scene. I could see they all thought they were special, too. Oh boy was I gonna put Sweetness on front street! My friend was talking about her husband and how he left his car unlocked and someone rifled through it and stole from him. She couldn’t understand how he could complain about it, when he was the one who left it unlocked. Apparently if you don’t secure yourself and your property in this world, you deserve to get jacked. I was not myself. I was more like a little bit of everyone around me. A little bit jaded. A little bit agitated. Even a little sweet. I needed to go out in the rain and get wet. Maybe I could imagine it was purifying me. I drove home enjoying the perfection of my new windshield wipers. Imagine life without windshield wipers. How exciting! You would have to roll down your window and poke your head out the side so you could see through your leather and glass goggles. When I got home, I stayed in and read the latest Stephen King book. Head candy. For breakfast I fried the eggs too long. All I could taste was the bacon and hot sauce. Someone blew someone up somewhere today. I heard a screeching scream and went out to see what was the matter. A gargantuan black cat was tormenting my kitten. Of course he took off when he saw me. Bully. I picked up my kitten and brought him inside. It’s okay, honey, you’re safe. That big mean old cat! If I could get my hands on him. I put my arms around him and kissed him on his spine and face. I smoothed out his fur and talked to him. Sweetness. If only we could all stay there for awhile. In our own pervasive sustainable organic sweetness.