Sunday, 18 June 2017

counterfeit. new york

I wasn't in new york this morning but it was summer and the roads were paved and they served bagels for breakfast. the time zone was pacific and a war was on the television. i was wearing sweatpants with stripes down the side when we passed the community garden, hunting for coffee and thirsting for a few solid hours together. i think it costs more than a hundred dollars to mint a hundred dollar bill to fend off all the counterfeits. a liberty bell like gold braille pushes off the paper, and blue 100's levitate up a sleeve. i'm calling my pops on father's day, the phone is ringing, mom picks up. i run some interference and fingers through the weave.
vitamin k. 2017

Sunday, 11 June 2017

headlines. worrylines

Being rather tired I forgot where I was going and lost my way, and tasted the tongue of confusion, pitched along to suspension like seeds in a raspberry jam,  a name stained by headlines,  a lengthy thoughtful smoke. They would never find me here. The worry lines began to disappear. No use frettin on gettin nowhere when there was a fire to be made to boil water over, and keep warm by. I mapped my memory tracing lines of your facade with the heel of my boot, in the shadow of a hanging falcon's talons. They scratched below the eyelids shutting out the light to protect us. We would find a plot of land and marvel at the countryside. When clashing on the ground in the air in the water under the earth, your mouth might betray you. Best to stay silent and wait. Still, you're too much, you know. A little south and uncoordinated, so near, so dear to me. Sweet like sugar.  - Katya

Friday, 9 June 2017

early morning americans

struck a balance with all, in the city in the summer after dawn, when the morning bird was heard and the sun at eye level, playin hide and seek behind deciduous trees, while the cat trailed you partways to the cafés, and the barista knew your name without asking, and the statesman laughed and folded his newspaper and nary a phone was ringing, the time was reserved for a church bell and silence. americas were thick with technology, in the cables in the air, and you wouldn't need to care in the early, early mornings. in the city on the streets, face values appreciated and if you looked past the wheels and the burden of homes that were carried, you were sure to find an honesty and goodness that survived any standing recession, knew more than money and politics combined, and had a penchant for pastimes of early morning. as deep as any faith, the devotion. rise and shine, america!

k. early morning devotée

Monday, 5 June 2017

EXCERPT. BOOK#3


"Yes, I have been troubled and I bring my troubles with me wherever I go cause home is wherever I am at any moment. I gotta be dim to think home is static, no, life proves me wrong all the time, stretches and yawns over the blue marble upon which we roll and slip, in our blue dreams it surfaces and dips, rounding us, our edges, in our black and blue jeans, replete with street and graffiti on the walls. A little cream, a little sugar in the coffee and stir. I cannot stop looking at you in my windowpaned heart. Maze. I keep losing and losing you, the rains came and washed you away, the sheets were in the streets and offline, the beats pushing the feet as we walked, the rhythms searching and climbing into the greater sound; the image of what we once were working toward dematerialized again, and just like watching television on the radio it was painful good. And here you are and the whistle has blown, kicking your board up to your hand for the catch, wheels spinning and I’m worried but what the fuck. I got nothing to lose cause with all this time talkin about my faith and talkin and talkin not daring to confront you. Had I already lost you? No, no. Truth, will you lunge at me like this? Boy oh boy. Can I stand there and stand this? Do I have a choice? And yet the big sky is bigger, and I cannot look up and not be amazed by the beauty in a puffed up cloud floating off to nowhere like a poached egg white after the gas is turned off and the waters navy blue… the smiling buddha of spaces, the proclaimer of all things inverted. Girl oh girl. In discordance sliding off a continuum because they forgot to put an end to it. Directly, mathematically correlated to my ability to see what was really going on here in my life, all alone. Yeah, there’s a freedom there. A painful kinda freedom because I will find you if I look hard enough. Painful good. I will get you back, I swear!"

-Ame, Book#3

Saturday, 3 June 2017

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

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