1.12.25

woke up a little dizzy and shook the sleep #dust off. dreams have been particularly vivid this year. not sure why. hoping to rustle up a good story and nudge it out into the world. prayers for LA

#katyamills

approaching LA

a tractor rolls 

slow across a dusty canyon

a cowboy perched atop a full blooded bull

waves his hat 

the mountains splash shade

southwest of Bakersfield

the sun will rise there 

from the east

forever

#katyamills

Hollywood Hills

two lane highway
snake in the forest
take us to the sea


take us to Hollywood
to family with blessings
take us 2 the top of the world
to share a smoke
against sorrows


memories of screenplays
of travels
Egyptian swindlers and
the red-haired boy
the love of winsome
LA sunsets


#katyamills

i wanna be electric

i got my ticket to chino in the outskirts of la trying to hit the grid and be captured by the cable i wanna be electric and extended stay america ina pocket just between the riveting room for you and me... a queen bed in a salt valley flat in the middle of november a room service setup so not to disturb alone in the center of a spiderweb of circuitry flashing mad in the pan like a siamese fighting fish all the betta to see you translucent of the soft sheets you ink on

Maze 2:11:3 Storytelling

Book Two

Chapter 11

Part 3

In the last episode 2:11:2 Maze and his mom, well, the distance between them was growing. Consider them divided by headphones and the sound of Pantera or Disturbed. Consider a wedge of court tv and Highway to Heaven reruns. But really, that's not even half the distance.

Maze 2:11:2 Storytelling

Book Two

Chapter 11

Part 2

In the last episode 2:11:1 we return to the story of Maze and his mother. She took him across the border via a coyote and they started over, and she got work in LA. On the surface his life looks common for a young American boy, until he begins leaving home all night, all the time. She doesn't know where he's been or what he's been up to, and prays it's not what she thinks. She searches his room hoping for any sign of typical teenage angst and rebellion but finds none. She thought she was protecting him by leaving Mexico, but she realizes she cannot protect him from himself. 

LA and DV and ADDICTION

Draft material from the Daughter of Darkness series...

(this chapter refers to Maze's mother and family)




" LA was a long way from here, but his mom was a short distance to his heart. She was a social worker and worked to help women like herself escape from situations and cycles of domestic violence. She was the shoulder to cry on that she never had. She had a fine memory of her own necessary flight from danger, and the hundreds of half-baked efforts which preceded the determination she ultimately summoned to leave half her offspring in the hands of God and her sisters to look after. The kisses on their little heads. The telling them it was gonna be okay, when she herself was not convinced. The every little setback she encountered on her traveling up and across the border and into the suck of American culture, had her pining, sometimes bodily, to return to her many loves. Her family. All spoiled by one splendid scoundrel and fool who knew only how to transmit his self-hatred by beating on the one who loved him the most. He considered her a permanent fool for being permanently smitten with him. What was he worth? He considered himself, like his father before him, to be garbage. The more he beat her in the alcoholic stupor, the more he hated himself. The more he hated himself, the greater a fool she became for standing by him. So he would make her suffer, and prove himself right about both of them. Never worried and never conjuring any image of what life might be like if she grew a spine and left him. Which is why he went on his own mental vacation and never returned, after she did. He could smile and laugh at anything. The anger was gone. He no longer needed a home or anyone to support. He could see his remaining kids and not recognize them, somehow. Yes, it was sad. But the strange way he reacted made the depths of his loss a bit easier to bear. For now the people called him smiling old man, with nothing to smile about. "

Impressions? Keep it or lose it?
You can read Book One of this series here... Grand Theft Life

Heart Holds A Vacancy

(penned in darker times, 2011)

the Sea
her depths grow out from green
from green to royal blue
Where
all our lies get hot
get salty
Liquidate
into butter
Congeal
into residue
residual
of which


Constitutes the laundry list
of lies
uncommon
picked for
pulled for


Juice
Energy
Extraction


By decree of part-sentients
(part-not)
sworn to secrecy


Whose vows have been
exacted
spoken
logged
attributed
catalogued




the precise configurement
figured
configured
drawn off the slight balance of
good will
accounted

for


then left
here in this courtyard
where touched
touched by the elements

Produce a serum
bottled
capped
guarded
two men to a vial


There a discordance
a shaking of foundations
if the color hits the litmus test
and meets other requirements unknown
(you can tell by the sound)


a hollow tone


The amplification
of which
discards
shucks
throws off
any and all
antagonist untruths


(left brown and dyscolored in the foamy froth)


The purified potion
then drained
hits a shade resembles
goth


The scientists stand
satiate
fatigued
admiring
edge of tide pool...


Truth!
Taken from the scene
from the light
double encrypted
left inaccessible
walled off


Truth!
Like pores
touched by witch hazel
locked behind skin
sealed from the world
and her sin


Truth!
Language is lost
in the crowd
of the avowed



Truth!
Eyes tell of suffering
naked like ankles
bit by geese
scraped on thorns
bleeding until clotted
sometimes

Truth!
found
retrieved then
hidden
until she may be
cloned
replicated



For now
we are left with the same old
same old
caked makeup
meet low-grade rubber


wall ball material
circa '79


smoke trails and
salvage yards

highways
bits of plastic
bits of plaster


just another
man-made disaster


For now
we are left with our scars
on water
steady boiling
until poached


For now


A double-breasted
back-stabbing
On Front Street
by the boardwalk


The perp
vanishes
in a fog of Chat
Room
Twitter

The forensics team drinks coffee
the coffee
sure is bitter


For now
the lies proliferate
canvass our nation


gas consumption fever!
TV vacation!


What once was compromise
now has
no promise


each for his own
all or none
mentality


Long island teas comped
on a corporate spread
for the so-called VIPS
for the pros


Young runaways
expose thighs
to highball bids
much too low...


Is this not enough
exploitation
and suffering?
to pry open
the safe
where collective truths
are stashed?


Until then I will hold
for all the good
people


a vacancy
in my heart
unparalleled...


a love enduring
unequalled
uncommon
and
true


from me
to you

'Less Than Zero' - Book Review by K

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