Poetry by Katy Haas

Matt Casagrande CC




June 21st, 2023


tonight is the longest night 
i have to think about everything
i don’t want to think about:
              my body, a rotting log
              the city, a failing machine
              the past four years, a bruise
                              over my breastbone.

choose your battles
choose less battles
choose even less battles

i’m sorry it’s just that
i don’t want to be angry
anymore. i want to look everyone
in the eye and feel okay about it,
like my guts aren’t grinding against each other,
like i don’t want to scrape the inside of my skull 
clean with my own nails i’m sorry. 

outside the bar, 
outside the art gallery that still
gathers my ghost inside its walls, 
the lights sag over the streets   
and the sun 
                is still setting
                is still setting
                is still setting
for what feels like hours.

my god (and i mean the marsh
and the cranes crying out in the 
tall grass and the first fire fly
i’ve seen all June, i mean 
a cigarette shared from a friend
on my front porch) 
my god my god how 
can i yearn all through the night 
when even this night is too long,
and how can i not when there
is so much to yearn for?


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Katy Haas is a queer non-binary poet, collage artist, and Furby enthusiast from mid-Michigan. Their work can be found in Reckon Review, HAD, Stanchion, and elsewhere. Their debut poetry chapbook the algorithm knows i never stopped loving you (Bullshit Lit) is rumored to be about their white noise machine. Follow them on Twitter's death throes (@katyydidnt) & Insta (@mouthshroom).