colorless

you got me disinterested by your tone of voice. seeing you i have a choice and paint the world around you cannot help but drop out without color not even close to an impression until the absence stands out clearly

mad red sunrise and surrealities

love. what was this word and her repetitions
her various meanings to
diverse peoples
her attachment to some
while others she out right eluded for always
never could be bought yet
always on the auction block in the world
a craigslist listing would offer and ask
but never obtain anything like
her

someone 2 love some
bodies for four twenty
or clouds. a toss-up 4 weed
what a trade and some

change

in you and me

unfortunately

short the patience required for the real
see a kinda pale dripping teal
downsized
from the belly of the whale
to an elephant seal
sunning half days
at the wharf ina blubbery sidesteppin grille
mass tourist appeal

step to the truth of this kinda sadness...
manifest in cities and suburbs
rural surrealities
all across our gentrified former farms
our unharnessed lands. no one can remember anymore

thank god

step to the sad truth of this soon forgotten game catch-all
love. binding a (controllable) context of lust and
self-marketing fueled by
loneliness and greed
fear and need
fear and
need. loneliness. greed

witness the watchers (who witness too)
cold in the eyes
unable to blink
greco-roman-american tragedy

stained green by water dripping for eras

into marble and porcelain tubs 

and sinks

(and where love resides) so also reside the watchers for eternity
and possibly past times
running down

even the thought of such visions
in hell took the thinkers of the thoughts
to emotional lows rarely
recovered

such emotional descent might be succeeded by
titrated blood tides

the hour
the sunset tapers

cold
dawn frozen in the face of a dying star

mad
mad and red
this

UNTITLED OR 2015 IN 2016

by Katya

i was weary yesterday and
 better last night i gave up
 this morning digesting
                        carbs
                        painfully

hating myself
like last year

im better tonight
im better for me so
 better for you

happy new year what's
new about it?

i was once a bedwetter
lost my pride and found it
i was better without it

bedwetter without it

can we make myself fresh
can i make ourselves clear
and then what's in there?

you are
you are love and not
loving me

ok

goddam abstract off
the wall

watch where you place our eyes
please

love myself once
the carbs are blown up
gimme a scone

like last year stumbling through
self publication

i am better
without it

weighing the heart against it all

My heart I had to weigh and it came out so many oz. I weighed the same amount of plant matter and tossed the matter into the same amount of water brought to boil. I had to do something about us and what else could I do? on a whim, but so are some of the most brilliant works of art recorded in one session, and so I went on while listening to jazz I went on and on, and in my kitchen tossed the plant matter I had procured from the yard and that means earth, into the pot of boiling water, and I saw and froze in my mind the sight of the vapors coming off the water tickling the undersides of the very seche very very very dry crop borne of the drought, and the expansion began as the water gave life to the earth, and the earth gave substance to the water.

And there were those who got out of bed quickly, those who hit snooze, hundreds of thousands who rolled off their partners, hundreds of thousands who did not, who flew solo, and some would see the sun and many would not, and every minute was a new dawn depending on where you were in location to the sun.

And there was my heart beating contra to the jazz keeping time to many miles away... you.

the end of friends (conceptual freewrite)

Please i would do anything if only to call up a memory of you or a memory of me hurting not because  i want anyone to think of me that way, hurt, not because i want anyone to feel bad, no, only for anyone to know that i hurt, too, just like you, and that the lies do that, grey skies do that, and all the plans that fell through a black hole back through me back through you --- please i am already crying on a deserted ground when the kids are off for summer, there are many good memories and games to play and no one is waiting for a swing or a push, i can push myself and push myself around, too, i am not you but you can understand, can't you? you can remember the way i treated you before you pushed my limits --- thanks i loved you so and go on loving, because i remembered how i could and it was so good, to really care and truthfully the dare was one i did take, otherwise how could i die by the venom in a few words roughly strangling, a few thoughts issued like blankets in the winter and then i'm smothered beneath them, devastated by the heat, and wondering where this darkness came from how the wind came about so sudden --- thanks i will find my way back to light, out of irons, cautiously and quickly like i did when i was a child coming home late after supper when i wasn't allowed out but went out anyway because i cannot be tethered well, even if it was for the best, thanks, i will find my way slowly closing the door behind me, so carefully tiptoeing up the creaking wooden uncovered stairs --- even though i did some kinda wrong by you, i only did what i had to do, because i am who i am and make no excuses for myself, i have my energy to run and to run me over the fields and city streets, i am replete in my heart with the love that got me in this bind to begin with, for were it not for loving me for loving you, there would be nothing you would do --- no terrible lies, no striking out, no leaving no way out for me, no ladies and gentleman, this is the end of the show you must go, no drawing of heavy curtains behind which the hurt may be hidden, no accusations that this was what i paid for, no terrible, no lies, no whites of recidivist eyes.