social prefab

the social fabric, sewn with prefabrications, was moth eaten. the yarn ran easily off cat claws. we held on to the senseless hope it would withstand the fast approaching fall 

#katyamills

sense.less

a goldfish bowl

full of puppies sewn

with flags upon the floppy 

fabric ears was passed 

around

the missile 

flown up into the sky

on government tv

the classroom in rapt attention 

the austere faces of approval 

a trail of smoke

recess

a few boys ran 

behind the brick schoolhouse

and beat each other 

senseless

#katyamills

teenage communist

only nineteen reading Marx
she was calmly pronounced a communist
by her ever patriotic 

American family

arguing was useless
she laughed so hard

how would she get the grades they demanded

if she blew off class 

assignments?   

#katyamills

navel (gone larger) label #2

A great compression hits the air and electricity unloads upon the city and picks up pavement like legs over jumpropes. Spent out on long nights and hazy days between command central (some adulator's basement or agitator's sister's garage) and the Civic Center. Planned protests (amidst unplanned parenthood). Your body and your mind are notched for shorter play, but the spirit moves the joystick. The sound of it makes most young activists want to switch to substitute teaching.

And many probably do
But not you know who

Others join the green party ranks
Or the army, marching behind tanks

I would  move (with you) to Amsterdam or Vancouver
where we could talk on talk radio with the world about
anything but that

what's behind the label
across the sheltering orange rind
of the navel

To be chicken-wired into a city 4 block radius
by choice. Fast food ideology. To give away your voice
by choice  -- Berlin, circa 1942

Caution. it might hurt
Planned parenthood (amidst pop-up protests), hazy days and spent nights for dizzy girls spun dry from wet, will never be women to boys will never be men, lucky if a fifth make it to the clinic where everyone's betting against them, only a tenth make it out half-alive. Fast food ideology.  -- Chicago, 2016

There, there...
All washes away, tears and problems and headaches and trash
Flags come out on Patriots Day and how dare you? I love
(my country) too

There, there...
The pulp is safe and juicy inside
full of nutrients (and whatever's in the water)

A great decompression hits the air and electricity unloads and picks up pavement like legs over jumpropes. Feelings around the block so diverse and tangential, burning like coals in the eyes and faces of those who live deep in the heart of the American city. Every AMERICAN city unified, from Quebec to Tijuana, Houston to Montreal, Toronto to Rio de Janeiro. Feelings catch on and so alive!

We will need no lighter fluid. You and I
 The solar flares (sent by sun) have arrived

Journal #07.06.15

The sun has risen again, and everyone has gone to work. I work at night, so I am at home watching the light edge across the patterns on my couch and carpet, and the quilt my mother gave me. There is firework paper and debris all throughout the city. The night of independence saw me at home, drinking coffee and walking from front to back porch and back to front, listening and looking. From my location, rather central to this city, I could imagine skirmishes all along the perimeter as though we were defending our home from invasion. A strange sensation of patriotism crept into my heart as my imagination took hold. For my city has never been on the verge of attack. My person, yes. My character, yes. My philosophy, yes. But never this place on the map.