when i meditate on those i knew who went down hard and whom, after all the shock had been absorbed, by anyone who meant anything to them, ascended to the heights of recollection, i am filled with great sadness. when you boil it all down and the steam rises up, what's important in life is just giving a damn, decidedly, when you got no more damns to give. #katyamills
Thursday 28 February 2013
giving a damn when you got no more damns to give
when i meditate on those i knew who went down hard and whom, after all the shock had been absorbed, by anyone who meant anything to them, ascended to the heights of recollection, i am filled with great sadness. when you boil it all down and the steam rises up, what's important in life is just giving a damn, decidedly, when you got no more damns to give. #katyamills
Monday 25 February 2013
a way aways (cold steel# iii)
a way aways
part iii dedicated
to kali to kila
to february 12, 2013 = 11
She takes
yer rules-of-road
yer mandates federal
yer ideas of fair
yer fears...
she licks them speechless
swallowed
the music-the man-the mainstream
swallowed
the line-the linear-the madmadlineage
swallowed
the age-of-fadness' rivercesspoolz
fell
into her wake
deconditioned
decommissioned
transmissions.....
swallowed
into her lake like history
that which B
swallowed by
the sea
this sucker she
will make you her bitch
and liquefy all the earth
around us
you and me both
this fucker
will have us
suck fumes
FUCK - uuuuuuumes
she whines
ignited
turned over
her oilpans full with
blackblood, she
unassumes
like
no one
never knew
but, i think,
strange to say
she loves somehow
through cold rain of
insect-stung steel
cause
that was back then
wasn't that?
cause now
she is all
opened up
on open road...
carrying my needy ass again
she sounds
like a ten
out of ten
and she carries
me and mine and
our kid
eyes full moon
our kid
what me made
we made
she marries
our nineteen eighty
static images
small town to suburban
to urban...
she crosses
the many states
of miss america...
compelling
telling
turning
toward all
our consciousness...
always
a great distance
incomparable
like steel
and flesh
a safe way aways
sending up steam
behind lawn-hose-sprays
ribbons of rainbow
summer hydrant
waters
in our war against
the roads we travel
residuals
washed off her
then quiet dripping
in the garage
we leave her
safely kept
a safe distance
while we send up steam
beneath showerheads
in our home...
safely kept
steady-dripping
the day's residue
toward the drains
a way
aways
leaves us
-fin-
part iii dedicated
to kali to kila
to february 12, 2013 = 11
She takes
yer rules-of-road
yer mandates federal
yer ideas of fair
yer fears...
she licks them speechless
swallowed
the music-the man-the mainstream
swallowed
the line-the linear-the madmadlineage
swallowed
the age-of-fadness' rivercesspoolz
fell
into her wake
deconditioned
decommissioned
transmissions.....
swallowed
into her lake like history
that which B
swallowed by
the sea
this sucker she
will make you her bitch
and liquefy all the earth
around us
you and me both
this fucker
will have us
suck fumes
FUCK - uuuuuuumes
she whines
ignited
turned over
her oilpans full with
blackblood, she
unassumes
like
no one
never knew
but, i think,
strange to say
she loves somehow
through cold rain of
insect-stung steel
cause
that was back then
wasn't that?
cause now
she is all
opened up
on open road...
carrying my needy ass again
she sounds
like a ten
out of ten
and she carries
me and mine and
our kid
eyes full moon
our kid
what me made
we made
she marries
our nineteen eighty
static images
small town to suburban
to urban...
she crosses
the many states
of miss america...
compelling
telling
turning
toward all
our consciousness...
always
a great distance
incomparable
like steel
and flesh
a safe way aways
sending up steam
behind lawn-hose-sprays
ribbons of rainbow
summer hydrant
waters
in our war against
the roads we travel
residuals
washed off her
then quiet dripping
in the garage
we leave her
safely kept
a safe distance
while we send up steam
beneath showerheads
in our home...
safely kept
steady-dripping
the day's residue
toward the drains
a way
aways
leaves us
-fin-
Sunday 24 February 2013
cold steel got love like us -ii-
cold steel got love like us -ii-
by katya mills
dedicated to my junked 19080 chevy impala
Fresh enough to commute with me. despite her thirty years. and mine.
rough and ragged we went. city to city. sometimes spent. sometimes
full up with gas, speed, and adrenaline. she held me up. she moved me.
city to city. all around the bay. we looked hard 2 most. until you looked
close. we looked funny 2 hustlers, rough & ragged, pushin' double dubs
down international boulevard. They laughed at us girls slidin' on down
macarthur... rollin' slow like gangsters down market or west.
Some stopped and wondered how we came to be. Then pushed easily
past us in their escalade suv's. She and i liked 2 steady watch the watchers
watch as we steady dust them...nahh. not usually, anyway. but we didn't
need to wipe the dust off. My baby was color of dirt.
To get behind the wheel was rollin' back the years for sure. that heavy chevy.
the steel. the weight. i can feel it. i roll my head back 2 see through clouds.
dust and cracks in the mirror. the wheel like a snake through my black gloved hands.
she rolls us into the far most lane and i kick her train-in-drive. In a second or less,
she kicked back.
We roll over and outside the lines. any poles in our way get bent. i floor her
down the final corridors of early morning fog...her old school. pedal steel. collapses the
wide acute-angle press 2 floor.
She had had enough of me. i couldn't get enough of her. me and my panic patterned
adrenaline rush commutes over the bay. she lived a life volcanic. She ran best hot.
moved slow in a way, with gravity. Memories always euphoric on my mind.
She was hot by birthright-- sweet, patented, american steel.
Friday 15 February 2013
i've been a bitch, and i will again, soon
Imagine this.... like maybe you're a multiple. Imagine that! Explore your own dissociative. Where do you go when you fail to associate? Are you hangin' with the Protestants? Are you a rebel or does it feel good to think you might be one? Or wait, maybe you're more in the class of those who just wanna be alone. Nothing personal. Just Or if you have already accepted your various ways of being... then great. Or if you do not believe you are anything greater than one single organic work of genius. Okay. Cool. Feel that way.
You suck, Miss Always One Step Ahead! You really really suck!
Who said that? No one wants to claim it. You have the general direction and you're eyes are generally staring in it. But no one wants to narc out the heckler. Why? Maybe because people do not like to be narcs. Maybe because the one who said it is clearly a fucking full grown coward, can't stand behind their defamation? They crapped and forgot to flush?
So what. Go ahead then, discredit them completely and not lose your lunch over a few flat words hurled at you. You. Miss Can't Get Over Herself. Do you care to flirt with disaster? Miss Close to Two Steps Behind. Every five seconds you seem to demand a new moniker. Swiss Miss with Feigned Showcased Neutrality.
A subject clearly talked out, burned out. Clearly yesterday's news experiencing upper perastalsis to regurgitate the day before. Even perastalsis fights the phone call. Sees no reason to regurgitate the already known quantity that is heavy and burdensome. Yes, You. Miss Succubus sucks you dry within thirty feet of her fucked up energy.
Even if you're undeniably one step behind, like, even if it's a fact you cannot contest, even if its proven in court and the gavel has ended the circus... even if only god can judge you and has judged you Miss One Step Behind, even then you will predictably do what you do. You will find some fuckin' desert shaman or self-described psychic who found some real estate to rent on the edge of the Fuck you. And you and you and you! You can be a real bitch.
Clouds are the wave of the present. Most of us computer literates turned away from the concept of shared storage somewhere other than our bricks and mortar western digital terrabyte or sd attache or micro sd. Whatever. Try not to get too caught up in storing all your shit, your videos, your music, your voicemails, your emails, your texts, your mms's, your fancy redresses. Because its all gonna be immaterial when the universe pulls it into a dark matter vortex. The destruction of all that bullshit, consider it the anti-sex. yeah, do that. consider it your homework. or consider this post washed up and done. gargle and spit out. fresh and clean like you love it.
You suck, Miss Always One Step Ahead! You really really suck!
Who said that? No one wants to claim it. You have the general direction and you're eyes are generally staring in it. But no one wants to narc out the heckler. Why? Maybe because people do not like to be narcs. Maybe because the one who said it is clearly a fucking full grown coward, can't stand behind their defamation? They crapped and forgot to flush?
So what. Go ahead then, discredit them completely and not lose your lunch over a few flat words hurled at you. You. Miss Can't Get Over Herself. Do you care to flirt with disaster? Miss Close to Two Steps Behind. Every five seconds you seem to demand a new moniker. Swiss Miss with Feigned Showcased Neutrality.
A subject clearly talked out, burned out. Clearly yesterday's news experiencing upper perastalsis to regurgitate the day before. Even perastalsis fights the phone call. Sees no reason to regurgitate the already known quantity that is heavy and burdensome. Yes, You. Miss Succubus sucks you dry within thirty feet of her fucked up energy.
Even if you're undeniably one step behind, like, even if it's a fact you cannot contest, even if its proven in court and the gavel has ended the circus... even if only god can judge you and has judged you Miss One Step Behind, even then you will predictably do what you do. You will find some fuckin' desert shaman or self-described psychic who found some real estate to rent on the edge of the Fuck you. And you and you and you! You can be a real bitch.
Clouds are the wave of the present. Most of us computer literates turned away from the concept of shared storage somewhere other than our bricks and mortar western digital terrabyte or sd attache or micro sd. Whatever. Try not to get too caught up in storing all your shit, your videos, your music, your voicemails, your emails, your texts, your mms's, your fancy redresses. Because its all gonna be immaterial when the universe pulls it into a dark matter vortex. The destruction of all that bullshit, consider it the anti-sex. yeah, do that. consider it your homework. or consider this post washed up and done. gargle and spit out. fresh and clean like you love it.
Thursday 7 February 2013
cold steel got love like us -i-
cold steel got love like us
by katya mills
I remember I once had her...I remember this well. The blue steel. In the eyes, reflected off the glass of bottles and bottlecaps which had been rolled smooth into the street. The saddle brown leather was matte, in opposition to the glossy deep sky blue. The kinda deep blue you rarely see in city skies anymore.
Ya, I once had her. Around the time shit got crazy for us, the whole web of us, maybe a core of ten or twenty, interconnected and related intrinsically to a surrounding second tier group of maybe fifty or sixty. I had her at the start, when I knew very little of what was to come. She kept her single tone metallic gold finish, when it all started.
She showed me in somehow, though i never knew the likes of her before. What was foreign to me became so intimately familiar. What a shock. Then I felt something special had arrived. So of course I showed her off.
This felt quite natural, our coinciding, however unbelievable. We would not settle for less. She would not. I would not. Sometimes Hollywood comes out of anywhere, thin air like. Hollywood is Hollywood. Often the simple task proceeding from such a discovery, is to arrange the travel itinerary, from wherever to California.
We were already California. I just had to show her off. She just had to let me, and she did! She really did! No need to acquire the funds, the permissions, then pack up and bid au revoir to the extended or nuclear family. There was not and should not have been any dissent. When you see this, you know this. Real end of the rainbow shit. Storybook status. Like we already made history, before we made history...
by katya mills
I remember I once had her...I remember this well. The blue steel. In the eyes, reflected off the glass of bottles and bottlecaps which had been rolled smooth into the street. The saddle brown leather was matte, in opposition to the glossy deep sky blue. The kinda deep blue you rarely see in city skies anymore.
Ya, I once had her. Around the time shit got crazy for us, the whole web of us, maybe a core of ten or twenty, interconnected and related intrinsically to a surrounding second tier group of maybe fifty or sixty. I had her at the start, when I knew very little of what was to come. She kept her single tone metallic gold finish, when it all started.
She showed me in somehow, though i never knew the likes of her before. What was foreign to me became so intimately familiar. What a shock. Then I felt something special had arrived. So of course I showed her off.
This felt quite natural, our coinciding, however unbelievable. We would not settle for less. She would not. I would not. Sometimes Hollywood comes out of anywhere, thin air like. Hollywood is Hollywood. Often the simple task proceeding from such a discovery, is to arrange the travel itinerary, from wherever to California.
We were already California. I just had to show her off. She just had to let me, and she did! She really did! No need to acquire the funds, the permissions, then pack up and bid au revoir to the extended or nuclear family. There was not and should not have been any dissent. When you see this, you know this. Real end of the rainbow shit. Storybook status. Like we already made history, before we made history...
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