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Poetry catharsis continues
I didn’t think I had poetry in me anymore… but somehow I have found the right key to that long-closed door.
A super easy way to keep up with your old pal Katy is to subscribe to my newsletter!
Artist, writer, unapologetic progressive, LGBTQ+ ally
A super easy way to keep up with your old pal Katy is to subscribe to my newsletter!
Artist, writer, unapologetic progressive, LGBTQ+ ally

I didn’t think I had poetry in me anymore… but somehow I have found the right key to that long-closed door.
I had some nightmares while napping this afternoon. One sad, one scary. I was in a large house in a neighborhood that backed up onto a river, a very small river that was really more of a creek in size. There were rows of rickety wooden lawn chairs between the house and the river, facing the house. I was sitting in one at dusk with my feet up on the wall of the house, and I looked down and realized the legs of the lawnchair were only about 2 inches from the rim of the riverbank. I moved the lawnchair closer to the house and continued reading my mail. One piece was a flyer for a dentist’s office that featured a large photo of a little girl that looked just like Brittney might have at that age. Another one was for an insurance company that also featured a large photo of Brittney, and I knew that she didn’t know they had used her photo. The house I was at alternated between being Auntie Fran’s house (although it didn’t look anything like her actual house) and a shed on Grandma’s property (which she didn’t actually have in real life). I got out of my lawn chair and realized that I could go see Grandma’s house. On the other side of the river were rows of new condominiums and fancy shops, facing away from us. I knew that her house was somewhere in those rows of condos, and that the beach and ocean must be on the other side. Bob came outside and we decided to walk across the “river” and onto a sidewalk on the other side that paralleled the river. We walked for a little ways until we came to a T where the sidewalk turned and went between two […]
poor brushed metal… he’s been replaced in the new iTunes 5. we overheard this conversation between brushed metal and his agent: BRUSHED METAL: Whatever happened to “Once you go metal, you never go back?” MIKE: Times change, my friend. […]…