+ a flash +

they are falling in love

they are working

they are raising the children

from south carolina

to china

the sun looks the same

the moon looks the same

from hong kong to warsaw

they worship the same gods

under different names

drink the same wine

the stars appear

no different

only the moment makes

history

the diverse feelings arise and fall

beneath the diverse flags

we come and go like

the wind

(minute) outlier

imagine

everything which ever
came to be once was
nothing but a thought

a feeling
set off from the
mainstream
even

our little universe

this minute outlier speck
someday may be the very dead
heat center of it
all

cannot help it

i write these words
i cannot help it
i gotta tune my voice


to silence


thrown off a little
by the world every
day

katya 2020

csus

california state university. sacramento. i got lost on the campus again, after dark. i asked for directions no less than three times. eureka hall. the moment i found it i felt that way. the kids were packed in the classroom and florence gave me a big smile and i took my place on the panel in front. the three stories came before mine were nothing short of inspirational. i hoped my truth could keep the spirit alive. about halfway through my story i found the pulse and saw the smiles begin to light up. these are difficult memories to draw up from the past. i told them how i owed forgiveness. around 2001 my dear cat Raccoon turned on me and slashed me in the face with his claws. that's when i knew what an asshole i was, deep in the heart of my addiction.

social work

i saw you and spoke to you and you gave me a lukewarm response. you were with a friend and preoccupied. i was on another mission. i hope you know i care about you. i was trying to say so with my eyes. you have been through some fire. being a social worker is a lucky way to live. they find you or you locate them, in their darkness, and you have a chance to make a meaningful difference. then you detach and they become just another star in the firmament, and all you gotta do is look around to see the ones who made it, and they light up your life.

the focus + shifts

How the narrative has changed in the States. just one month ago all the rich were becoming increasingly paranoid about the aging senator from vermont. what a surprise. they hadn't expected anything threatening to ever come out of a part of the country known for covered bridges and maple syrup, ben and jerry's ice cream, the latest practices for organic farming, jam and jam bands... democratic socialism? he was halfway toward securing the nomination. what if he made it to the big stage and found a way to beat the king? to the dsa (democratic socialists of america) their concerns were elemental and elitist and typically egocentric; being separated from one's money. the whole point was not to make the rich miserable, but rather to forge a path towards social justice, fair labor practices, healthcare for all, and other socioeconomic equalities. it was a divisive yet electric moment in the political arena. now covid19 has arrived and the world has turned completely upside down.

the consciousness

i saw you less and less then

there was the accident

i hoped for you to heal

i prayed for you

 

what happened to the kid

to turn the thoughts against

them? how sometimes we 

cannot want the best

for anyone? 

 

may we become

the consciousness of caring ina

time of urgent need!

 

if i falter the old ways

resurface like the deepest

hurt striking out

 

the consciousness turns

 

drawn up off the 

bottom of the 

sea

so you cannot agree so what

you wanna share something make your life richer, you feel like the wealthiest one alive, really, and you wanna share it with someone who love you, they say they love you, they don't need to say they love you because they raised you, they gave birth to you, you would not have arisen from the dust without them, no, and now you grown and you wanna tell them what makes your heart beat, and you hope they will listen, and you finally get the courage to write it out in a letter and you send it, and it's okay, it's okay you say to yourself, knowing full well it's like playing the lottery, you ain't never gonna know exactly how it's coming back, could be venom, could be spit, could be vitriol, or something kinder, and this time, this time it happens to come back softer or kinder than before, maybe, and definitely better than silence, pure dead silence, so you are grateful for that at least, and no, they will not abide by your request, no way, but they want you to know they may be happy if you happy, yes, everyone deserves to be happy. you call them the next day just to say hi. there won't be any rehashing what was written. you want them to know it's okay. so you cannot agree. so what.

notes on writing

i no longer wait to be inspired to write. one need not wait for rain, to irrigate the land. i block off time every morning to string the words together in a way that captures how i feel. might be 5 words. might be 500. keep digging, you will ultimately find water.

then i turn to some larger body of work - #wip - occupying my every day mind and heart. focus on the immediate work in progress brings me back in alignment with the gods.

+ 7 +

you were always a little bit laughing at the end of your sentences. i was in the kitchen working up a goulash, juggling pots and pans. some days are busier than others and that's okay. this is the seventh anniversary of not being up to no good. i had to ask you to repeat yourself. you barked at me and i purred back. being nonbinary i gave up on normalcy long ago.

spirits

the spirits. in the spaces between
 apart and far from
 hemmed in

 they sway in unison
with and out of synch
 then

pressure to force it came upon the fooled
and forgotten

the spirits. they swayed in the fields
like tomorrow as was
yesterday

february 17

you go without sleep. you cannot stop talking about it. you push aside those things that matter to most people. sunlight. the outdoors. lunch. they think you are crazy. obsessed. sometimes you believe them. your heart has been inspired to tell the world a story.

a little action

 they was runnin red lights and not killin nobody so they thought it was a joke. they couldn't say they wasn't old enough to know better, because kids been forced to take on the whole family at not even eight years old, after some sorta tragedy, and did! you could grow up anytime and maybe by circumstance. irregardless, they had not. so they went around young and stupid and reckless. people be laying on horns and vocal chords in protest all the time. and that just made them laugh a little harder. they had whole congregations praying on their souls. funny. how one man traded for peace and serenity, while the next would give anything for a little action.

they was runnin red lights and

not killin nobody so

they thought it was a joke they

wasn’t old enough to know better

how old do you have to be?

other kids been forced to take on

the whole family not even 8 years old

after some sorta tragedy 

grown up by circumstance

they had not. people laying on horns and vocal

chords in protest made them laugh they

had whole congregations praying on

their souls

funny how one man trades

4 peace and serenity

the next would give anything

4 a little action

concerted

the world looked different. maybe because of my friend. she came back from nicaragua to visit, someone in her family had passed on. she gave me central american eyes. we had breakfast at dennys and shared photographs and stories. emotions were forefront on her face. i have trouble trusting, do you, too? but you gotta let someone in. i went to seven eleven and thought about it. turned in my winning poker card for two. one for me and one for you. thanks for the flowers. reruns of the streets of san francisco. karl malden tore it up. thanks for the love. we came together just right. i bought two cokes. one for me and one for you. some lady came in and barked at the guy behind the counter. do you have this? do you have that? no we do not. people can be so demanding. i saw a kid in the backseat of a car. he was hanging out his head alongside the small dog in his arms. both of them with their heads out the window. smiling. panting. happy to be alive. some pop song twisted as they drove through the parking lot. someone's drinking malt liquor on a saturday afternoon. i'm sure thankful it's not me.

sixteen

sixteen knew what they
wanted

not how to
get it. not what to do with it once
they got it

sixteen was restless
craving living

let's find someone
and fall in
love

fourteen

fourteen was pushing the body
not yet filled in
around

bumping into stuff

       learning
this way

who you could
or could not
cross

fourteen was open eyes
still not afraid of nothin

made this way

smiling

i was made smilin

enamel chippin off the tombstones 

of my teeth

pouting

turnin slightly tangerine

when you pinch

my bottom

silent

i was made silent

feelings mixed up inside me

not one has found

a way out my 

mouth

standoffish

not because i think im better

but because i do not at all fit

in

i was made this way

if you don't like me

so what? it's who i am

and i don't like you

neither

give in not up

to the playful
to the hunger
to the boredom
to the laughter
to the weakness
to the cat calls
to the warmth
to the strength
to the comfort
to the ease

never will i
ever will i
give up

in.som.nia

the streets of sacramento changing
new apartment buildings
restaurants and shops

my back was achin i
could not get to sleep

ten years ago was an empty
warehouse waitin to be
furnished

now shes all grown up like
the cost of living
getting high

someone who could not believe
pushed out into the country

nine.two

nine and let us go
two forever
life that ends and never
will

making sense of
the past. we never really
knew what we were doing
but we made it

nine and let us go
you never know

the two of us
forever

put me away. they

all the pain in my body i was

talking to myself they won’t put me

away i seem to be okay i

gotta full time job the only chemical

in my system is caffeine

they won’t put me away

i gotta therapist i

got a yoga class a bunch of misfit friends

and family though they live so far

away they won’t put me

away

i got an imagination that’s my favorite part my

greatest strength my best asset my one

talent i think i’ll write it

down and make it

real

prose version: all the pain in my body could not stop me. i was talking to myself and giving myself encouragement. hopefully they won't put me away. i seem to be okay. i gotta full time job and the only chemical in my system is caffeine. i gotta chiropractor and a therapist. i got a yoga class and a bunch of friends. i gotta family though they live so far away. i got an imagination and that's my favorite part. i think i'll write it down and make it real.

ad.venture

i may not feel ready but i get out of bed and fire up my engine with some coffee and water. it's friday. i don't know what will happen but i love an adventure. i'm gonna take it moment by moment. bring it on!

broke the dial on the contrast

i once got more into socializing than books
the writing and reading
when you go blind like that there’s no sure thing
you gonna come back


i spun around that way for years
comparison shopping
broke the dial on the contrast


now i got my vision back you
can be damn sure i’m deep
into paper


you need no contrast to believe
in yourself

Trouble'99 (excerpt wip)

Everyone but Aden thought little about the future and investing in it, and even he was beginning to get derailed. I was protective and discouraged him from going out with us, stay and do your studies. Sometimes I stayed back with him and we went to the library or a coffeehouse to work. These were special moments for us. Fetching machine made coffee late into the night, talking about medicine and the life of a surgeon, cutting people up, dreaming about our great future. When he got into a zone, I dismissed myself and took a detour over to the fiction section to find something by Burgess or Borges or Burrows or Bukowski. I thought, if god or the head librarian told me the funding was cut off for fiction and made me choose one letter of the alphabet which we could keep, sorted by authors last names, I would likely select B. Then I would jump off the Navy Pier wishing I might drown.

tireless

thank god for this

winter morning
counteracted by effort and
shower and coffee

i cut and paint my nails
the tigers alongside the
furnace

i scrub the pots and pans
the tea kettle

today may i be
tireless

with words
with efforts and
devotion

b

unlike who you
are and what
you do

you cannot trust what
you think what
you feel

to be real

0202.2020

you wanna tell a story of what really happened but you cannot because your memory clouds it and your feelings about it colors it and your thoughts about it change it from what it really was to what you guess it was, and that's all right... just don't go thinking you can or pretending that's the real truth because it's not. it cannot be and it's not. no one has the real truth not even the facts. the facts are closer than you or me, but the facts alone are meaningless. that's why it's fun to write fiction.

february

the first day of february and the ground not as stiff as my spine. felt more like spring and i refused to accept it (on the grounds of my fear of global warning). i forced myself indoors the whole day. it was saturday so i had to go out for the obligatory errands, and stopped in at my friend the chiropractor. she asked me a couple of vague questions and demanded i use real ice in a ziploc not peas. eat the peas! she said, eat the peas! that was about the only inspired declaration i ever heard from her. doctors don't go to med school to become life coaches. though she pounced on my legs, my back was winter and would not make a sound. my neck was springy and cracked loud and easy. i am reminded we are made of bones not just muscle and heart and soul.