Sunday 30 September 2018


she was my friend
now she's gone and
i wish i had been
longer by her


i am so lucky to even live
so many in my circles they
passed on

may the thankfulness
live forever. if nothing

i fought it all

now i live and know differently, i see how unwilling i was to accept my lot in life. how sad. so many years lost fighting shadows. reality never folded...

i am okay now, mostly. i have my moods. maybe those years were neither sad nor lost. they just were. i liked a good fight. i liked being counter and intuitive...

whatever. it made me who i am. and i am no longer any demon or junky. i would rather ask you more about yourself. then chase down juicy stories in my head.

swim in baby blue

i finally used the key to open the gate and let myself in. summer was over and i was thankful. i set the water in motion, immersing myself complete. what a sensation. i left it alone and a trail of dripping wet. above and looking down from where i hung my clothes, i noticed the light show. a translation of my form. a liquid print. what was left of my rhythm. illuminated by the sun in baby blue. something understood me.


the copy is aged the paper turning orange and yellow. ive been reading to the lighthouse by virginia woolf. there is no spine of which to speak, and with each turn of page a sheet pulls off like a petal from a flower. my kittens have taken the masterpiece across the hardwood floors and made better use of it than i


idaho is in between
i cannot know this state
i never been

you feed us off your farms
and welcome us with open

idaho on film
boise. bustling

you may as well be
a star i keep edgy
off my plate

some day the gods
may swallow us


a sunday and a random car with a window smashed out and clouds all banking the sky. is it gonna rain? maybe. i feel sorrow and I don't know why

october. 1

like the days we march on. october. i have an affinity for you. your cooling trend. the killing off of worst of summer. i become pensive and add layers. indoors i go quiet. wrapped in blankets reading books. though autumn is the end, i see renewal in thoughts and feeling states. even love, lost in the humidity, pounded out of stereos, is attainable once again.

Tuesday 25 September 2018


comes a time when each passing moment is so unlike the one before and after it, i wonder how i could have been awestruck by a thousand years of human progress. more was accomplished in the time it took to compose.

Monday 24 September 2018

moments like these

full moon

how my past was
made of moments


we cannot live. undersea

another river breached its banks. we searched for higher ground. 5 million chickens drowned. we would rather tag an asteroid with a robot barnacle, find a way to mars, than try and learn to live under level of the sea.


the moon. full tonight for all to see. we missed it. i was watching you and you me. we rose. for all and the moon. to see.

Friday 21 September 2018


fall touches the sun spun side of the earth. and permeates. gets into everything. even your smile.


fall rises in the system. hot coffee becomes special. essential. we need each other more to keep warm.

Thursday 20 September 2018

i could not have known

how to live
had i not taken many risks
with a no reward principle
to guarantee my

feeling normal
never taught me

Saturday 15 September 2018

an unfortunate sound

i don't mind

sure i feel bad for the kids
decked in flippers
and snorkels

waiting for the
 green light

a pipe burst underground

inky liquid came to
 surface by the pool

 i never swam here
but i lived here

came to consider
the filtration system
an unfortunate

b street theater of life

friday night coming on

all the singles hit all
the corner stores for

that was me
in chicago

once i got robbed
walkin home

a knife to my
neck i yelled

take the fuckin booze
its yours

i was broke anyway
and tired of my life

they left me runnin off
empty shakin
hands beatin


now i really feel

thought no.7680012549991623842738

cannot be trusted

Sofia. B street theatre

city and her music of noise

was america was
chicago was life worth
working for ina cross
road. you and me and any one
fought through the seasons
the vocals the
the steam of whistling
i could feel the touch
the warmth beneath your voice
in a cold world
you could shout you could scream
you would have to
to be heard
then the aftermath the streets
the faces ina diner
ina hard won heartfelt
part of town

mocha skin tones made by
sun and genes
cream and sugar and
coffee black
where noise is music
toasting broken hearts and
dishes and bottles

 you woke me up

i can feel you today thousands
of miles away

i can laugh
i can cry ona dime ina city
and the music of

i was and wasn't

- Katya Mills

Wednesday 12 September 2018

wednesday was

only an extension
of tuesday
a prolonged monday

a lost weekend
forgot how
to end

Monday 10 September 2018

where do i go

i spoke up for somebody 
no one wanted to 

they had lodged their 
beliefs. the ones huddled
in the cold waiting their turn
at a room got turned

i was left shaken
almost defeated
unable to defend 
a friend

where do i go
when the system fails?
where do i go

i go home i drink tea i
read books i i i i pray i
get lost in my thoughts i
do not wanna care

you and me we

Sunday 9 September 2018

anaethesia and the infomercial

zombies of tv and the infomercial
take a back seat

 automobiles full
of real people

auction off humor
to the cheapest bid
ina captive audience

just drive
show some fucking compassion

if you drove like you speak
someone would be dead
in the road


they missed me
they did. i was over under
 or around their little
ideas of me

they will miss you

so will i
i will miss you
will you
miss me?

what are we
if not missed

Friday 7 September 2018

occupy earth

tesla smokes a joint
 goes space-x
illustrating plans
to occupy mars

i wanna occupy
earth a little

coffee at dawn
sunset jasmine

color swirling sky
black and white

all the wild
animals. and i
will not pro

i am

no carbon needs
get roped and pulled
and spit into the air

to feed my

Thursday 6 September 2018

more space guesswork

Andromeda did not mind about the light years gone missing. Saturn or some body in space was happy to harbor them but they sure took their time arriving. Watch out you might get fractal off the rings, or maybe that's what was supposed to happen. I always cut up my years into months and smaller increments. I bake them in a pan and they come out all seasonal. That way kids know when they go bad, not to eat them. Andromeda takes them back when we send them, and turns them into meteor showers, the galaxy to exfoliate. Deep space is the safest place around, minimal pollution, air and sound. I wanna go there when my world fails me. I cannot stand the anxiety. Earth looks good from the outside, but just try burning through the atmosphere; you will soon discover it wasn't worth it. Sorry to let you down and all.
to the lighthouse cat by kat

Wednesday 5 September 2018

pool key kid

i dreamt of a jump
off a balcony


i got a key
to a gate 
to a pool

now i can
get wet
the way they want me
to get wet


then if i make it
up quickly and

i can lie

on the couch
by the window

watch the waters turn
my ceiling into a light

and daydream
some more
through vertical

Tuesday 4 September 2018


there's more beyond the numbers the cigarettes the coupons more behind the words the thoughts the deeds more to come of life itself! why would i restrict myself to a rising setting sun? only a single revolution around the earth is needed to prove it is not so.

Monday 3 September 2018

notarize the thighs -vii

oversaturated with char-broil
ranch sauce and carpet sales

how would we survive
if we rented out
our heads
dinner by k

come knocking
first of the month

they look at us incredulous
shaking out a hook
the jingle

pay up motherfucker
you live on our land

did you think
this was

Sunday 2 September 2018

asian market

we went to the asian market
 and found a fish
 to fry

packed in ice behind
a hundred
thousand pounds of
rice we were

careful not
to look
him in

the eye

Saturday 1 September 2018

the legend of captive 8

captive 8
did not hesitate
they made it out

the words
of dying 
breath persist

i am free 
captive 8 by kwm

captive 9
may never know
the old great feel
of earth and pine
and snow

of trees and moon
long shadows

captive 8
a foot of snow
held their imprint 

so long

home they went
due north
for what 
a life was

captive 9
had heard 
the shot
the hope
as well 

that night
behind a downy 

they cried the memory

of captive 8
who shared
the dream

locking doors
and prison whores
'neath the cold 

all they ever
knew was all
they ever

- kwm