Katja Grober


I’ll take the street up to the meadow and down to the town I was afraid of now I’m made of
loosened strings and tight stretches highways and high days music stores and money orders I can’t
afford to lose a day my money is all time now it’s called living
it’s called days go by me in the damndest way
vibing in the hive
to infinity!!!! I want to be to infinity!!! today I’m all smiles
none of those sad billboard thoughts
no sims moments no squashed bugs all life lessons in a bottle
sending out an LOL to you
to be in love is to have three heads one for the making one for the shaking one for the taking
to be out of love is a paradox I’d explore through being in it and how I would do that is I would write
myself a letter from my lover and leave it on me desk I’d say honey dear bugs boogie bear why that was
so-ever-sweet of you
and then I’d prompt my lover to say “me lady”
and then I’d read it and weep into their arms
they’d look stunned at me
and I will have had a very funny day
and time will have been well spent
the days of nothing now meaningful the loveless days now full of love the days without you now have
you sprinkled in
I will have made no fool I will have made a hard knocked jewel that we can wear when we read my write


soon as we get in there we’ll be in a different world
it’s our different world like west end granny’s or fern hill
the doorman says no entry
he’s boring
he should be paying us to come
this land is our land
I’ll sing the star spangled banner and remind him that memories are only made of those moments in life
that soar enough to write em down to tell stories about- the permanents!- I say with a finger up just
because it’s funny
what difference does it make wherever any of us are
what dark thoughts to be having on a light night, I’ll say and pretend to answer a phone call from g-d
g-d is saying that this is our moment Tony
(I’ll have learned the door mans name beforehand and waited until now to use it)–
because this is poetry
Tony, me, a deep sky and a phone call from god -all the way from heaven tony! that’s a long way away,
or is that just through the door here?
Im twinkling
my lover wants to play
we slap him down 3 twenties and say come dance with us
lover whispers in Tony’s ear she’s even more fun when we get inside
we met in line


art vs. invention vs. the power of time
Maddog in my bag – which the liquor lady laughed at. Hey! I’m not mad I’m none of those “words” Im all
“actions” “all” the “time”. I gotta let myself feel things to bring the words up doggy because words are
what mean more to me than feelings than events
words are my life which is little to none without my deep dark twistingful wisting feelings.
they hate to hear it:

  1. Relax
  2. Focus, with your eyes
  3. What do I want what do I need?
  4. Make an effort to be extroverted

If my actions cause you reactions then I’m a shit out of town and downer or I’m doing my job
Wrong is the promenade that provokes and then argues fair intentions
I love Sharknado, puppet shows, pinatas, sitting with my back to the tv looking into your eyes instead
I’m not dead inside I’m just messy
Cleaning up can be positive and what’s it called sterile find which way
Allows you to play
All we have is happy or getting there
We made tik toks until ten o’clock “I can’t be made viral because I called in sick today” For example last night you could have been feeling like
you did Lysergic Acid Diethylamide while at a normal concert, with remote control sharks
Or you could have been having flashbacks to dreams
remembering that love and reality and eyes focused is what matters
Calling the cops on your neighbors when maybe they just need someone to ask them if they are ok and
count to ten with them and rub their bellies and say I’ll have tea ready for you when you are ready to be
Dreams can be qualified as never happening in all cases –
How do we resist the mind but please it?
Ease it because auto-filled my name as Dreamer
Resist emotions but make art
so we may all connect escape and be better
if it’s keeping your peace away don’t give it any thought
whatever in my beautiful brutiful mindfulness can give some space to yours? let this be the last I touch it
and the next time on a tour through our hearts as one
keep growing sewing together until we’re all on tour we’re all one bus stop away from the American
idiot finale feeding each other twizzlers knockin on those tiny bathroom doors yelling “you’re stinking up
the bus”
The things that happen to you are words
words are new years 2 and drowning in the shower they are wind storms and heath bars
words say: will you read something I wrote and whisper how it spoke to you? will you listen to my song?
will you share your process? will you get all sappy in the fam room in private for being best friends
anger and pleasure and me hiding from us until it’s safe to come out
I’m trying to see myself the way I want to be seen and trying to give you shelter
putting myself first
the healthy kind
Is knowing what you want

Katja Grober has been eating breakfast since she could eat and writing poetry since she could write. Find her @fitbabytea