type.writer -ix

i carried paper with me
everywhere

in a knapsack
or an overcoat pocket in the winters
of west side chicago

alleyways
my back against bricks
i held them under weak hanging
lights threading open mics

the Appalachian trail
did not stop me

the subway trains
the bars
the libraries (of course)
into parks where the sky
opened up all my thoughts

often i lay them out
beside my jack
 rocks

i felt the social
vacuum
around me

dead air

i didn't
care
so alive
was i

murder by memory -v

There are those fictional and real beings who happen to silently make their way through city streets. Their real or imagined relatives may not even feel them for the blood connect got lost as matters with less import took precedence. Even if you're make believe, you have your fiction to fall back upon. It's a basic human right of the future, just ahead of actualization. You have yourself. Such has been proven on a non-empirical level by five sense deconstruction, boiled down to clarity of the sense beyond and boiling down, I mean the process, was never the most compassionate practice unless you were boiling rocks down to the mineral soup which cures most disease in the distant future. Mineral soup will not taste any better than the idea of liquid rock, but it sure will be good for you and your kids if you have them --not recommended but where there's a will-- don't worry, it won't harden your arteries and even if it did, in the future it's a luxury to live by your hearts. Turns out all this preaching to stay present was unnecessary. Tense-bending will create new dialects in a world where then now and soon become great playthings of the mind, impinged upon by harsh realities, softened by mineral soups. Filling the void where time once meant so much, with a concentrate of former here and now fullness of life --the great store of it must come to some use, if not refuse, some pretty brilliant bastard decided-- was considered a new discipline and people both fictional and real were paid to do it, in something that resembled real currency. You can still consider a lifestyle choice, that's what currency buys, but time will not be of the essence and watches no longer adorn wrists. Some are hidden under clothes of the nostalgic, tugging on ankles and scraping the pavements. Most everyone loves the sound and it's easier than live pets when on walks.

vas deferens. carried away.

that's a lie
a contraction
predicated by
a lie

a contradiction
fighting
my own
diction

maybe me
poet
wanna
be

should go to get inspired
to the sea
bring jack kerouac
big sur
small wonder
he fell to his death
on the rocks

that's a lie
on the rocks
that's drunk
to the teeth
that's tight
constricted

predictable
something easily
predicted

the one who 'plays'
with words

added to a
peurile
penile
vaginal
flow

masturbatory
that's a lie
'cause after you're done?

find yourself
lonesome
exposed
in the sun

the milky substance
the texture
the scent
this is true

indeed
on paper
true

don't let them say adam
don't let them say eve
don't let them say loins
the butcher turns
blue

write away
right away
while the world outside
waits

that's a lie
Kafka knew
burned all his books


that's a lie plus a
lie plus size
sky

add the earth
let half the wildlife
die

the spermozoa
the egg the
vas deferens

this is true
cause
we all
get
carried
away

don't say white
don't say black
say fifty shades of grey

gray
grey
over
play

bundle it up
under your arm
a mess of sticks
the faggots
for kindle

take them together
walk them out
to the world

watch the pieces drop out
behind you

see yourself in them
the dropouts

horizontal
vertical
thrust
thrust
open
hearted
come
shot

true

© Katya Mills, 2014

the light of future's present past

the quality of light
in the middle of the night
something hard to see
a candle dance
maybe


the lux
the quality
in the middle of the day
maybe less remarkable
than the light at night
in may

i once saw northern lights
purple green and blue
i once saw you
in my life
you and me and
me and you

the quality of sunshine
against a dark and dangerous sky
is just the kinda thing i need
so real so true
like you

the quality of lightless day
imprisoned in the mind
when all the world is simply shit
all the world
and mine

the quality of coming through
a really painful time
a midnight blue
an abstract lime

this is the quality
falls between us
still
i cannot help
loving you

i love the light
in darkness cast
the light of future's
present past

the eye of lighthouse
three sixty round and down below
the waves besmashed
down and round
ago

i see reflections
of the rocky rolling ocean spray
all day in lemon
squeeze

when contemplating all i've loved
and some who
gone away

i ask your hand
across dark land
across dark land with me

i ask your hand
across dark land
across dark land and sea

before the light diminish
quick!
before the light?
i ask of you

come with me now
come
please

What Gives (dedicated to K+K)

Yesterday i was half.... today i am whole.... being with you babe made it so, you made me so. i was really sitting pretty on the front porch calling you. the immediate downcast when you did not call back made me soft. the stone under my behind chilled me cold like a front. i took down my guard and got my credit card, hit the atm for some retail therapy. pulled myself up a little taller on the sidewalks. i thirsted for you. you made me tremble. the chills ran up my legs and down my arms. so deep was the feeling. when you looked down at me from above; blurred out of my focus was the ceiling.

In my mind i remember so clear. Yesterday you were there. In my mind, you are here.  As i looked up, daydreaming of you, you tumbled away. I what the fucks up? why cannot i locate your dangerous self in the streets? when can we again roll comfortably between the sheets? the wave of your passion riding over me. the latest fashion you peeled away from me. the whole day long the music....you and me. And close to one another, we had another way to use it. To ask the kinds of questions you ask when you desire. in your eyes i witness fear and great excitement. Reflections of my own.

Stone to stone, we rocked the house. You rocked me over on the bed and fucked me pretty well... the ten minute tremor is how i could tell. i fade into your spirals, I drop into your pattern. The music of your soul, well, your music squares my saturn, my ruling planet of aquarius. fresh marked parameters. i love us all around. Up through our solar powered chakras. down the whole united states of soul. You make everything i bought into turn over. I am sold. you cost a lot less than holding. possession charge? i guess i'm guilty. the weight of evidence, ice cold. all the way down the block. you are the puppet in my sock.  i'm losing energy to the thoughts, without you i may be nothing. you come from the past and scramble my ass. bringing me to some progression on my knees. Our hearts in two beat out one  pattern so bold and true. a place where all choices get lost in the fold, the K-crew. some complicated simplicity, some droolin fools gold. im really wrapped up in your mystery. i love you.