skatin the i.ball

in a crowd i was
a thief my eyes shifty my
shadow darted into grates
hands in pockets pupils
skating the eyeball
in circles. an object of
derision a sinking
suspicion

alone i was birth
and death and
neverending i
drank my coffee
after five hours
sleep

my moment
stirred

i was left
out

i was shy i
longed to
be



Katya Mills
remix'96

the last living smile

many years from now
when shyness is the greatest of virtues
and skepticism the license
to live

your eyes will come up over the ledge
of some old tome so heavy
in your hands

in a bare reading room
in the last living library
against the ticking
muffling the heart of
this city

and ask me
out from under the skein of our technocracy
what is goodwill?

and like a sun just risen
above any horizon
i will decorate the room
your face

will decorate
the room
my face

with the ancient
 smile