in most cases I would try to
name it like anxiety when I was unable to be social. depression when I thought myself 2 lazy 4 not getting up. trauma when the mind went blank for hours... not to lose accountability. to give the self power 2 respond dynamically ... I followed the migration of charging metal beasts in an asphalt line across the desert. this, I thought, cannot interest the
lion like the orchestra of calling birds. I became aware of night and day.
dichotomous. the one full of mad laughter and moonlight the other working us to death ... the wool of the hungry sheep clearing the fields grew in a
lunar pattern. uncompelling gravity. A bell hung from a neck and rang out mercifully in the terrible heat. I sang a little doing the dishes marking up my face boiling the eggs cinching my belt. he followed me everywhere. my kitten. sweet Lolo! if only i could bring those yearning eyes to work - well maybe there is a way? I met a young man. he was
fishingfor likes with a click-baited hook at the tech bro block party in his drift machine. dressed to unimpress. it was only Thursday. he would call off Friday without a second thought for his team so to extend the weekend. cuz thats how you do it, he told me... some go off by themselves. pick off a farmer's lamb. tear it apart with the birds. they will hunt until they are hunted, looking for the pack to take them back. l learned you can face the day and all its turmoil feeling calm
undersea. this comes of a practice of reflection turning inward and interpreting that world to share it with those who like to write and read. and sometimes a makeshift parade of thank you. no need to resort to
trickery; just be bored enough until the imagination kicks in then you will know you have one.
a wild dune of
sand you
held my painted toes you
anchored my knees
I cast my prayer into
the seas
the ocean's wind and water whipped up her fav drink: a salted trenta toasted kelp cold cream
seafoam. no ice. and an extra shot of fauna served in a microplastic recyclable cup. enjoy!
blue light in the night she was a nail searching for the
hammer, indeed apps shot into the void, running laps on circular trap, her friends married working smiling pregnant and she was scared moody drunk out her mind but some day... some day she would love & live well...
the morning is cool and i breath into my hands. the geese fly north in tattered V formations above the Central Valley. coffee on the balcony with the orange cat. let's make it a good one.
exalted no longer they moved surreptitiously across the city finagling apples and bread off street vendors and lowered they head beneath pissing cherubs choking with crazed laughter. five years later they first painting sold @ Sothebys for a half mill.
rebellious kids we just want to create somethin not follow every rule 2 its dead ending full of angst we lash out finally they call us troubled our
conduct misinterpreted. supremely.
by Katya Mills 5.2.2026
