So many victories in these moments! You can only see one of them but they are all there❤️ Blow your own mind!

The dna says Viking but the heart says Mexicana ❤️. Saludos a el pais de mi esposo y de mi Corazon . 🐐


I do not need this. I bought it for myself as a TREAT! ❤️❤️❤️❤️.

Raising my glass to you OLIN LEO HASTIN, most amazing grandfather of ALL TIME!!!!!


Audio recording of poem GO! by Kim Avila
Is this a road show ? Or a shit show?
Baby I don’t know but we gotta GO!
Is this the right way or the wrong road?
Baby I don’t know but we gotta BLOW!
We can stand here talking about what used to be.
And we can stand here squawking about was it you or was it me.
But baby maybe I’m thinking
Just maybe baby I’m thinking
If we just stand here spinning in circles.
We’ll sure get nowhere fast.
Is this a comedy show? Or a dog and pony show?
Baby I don’t know but we gotta GO!
Is this the way it’s supposed to be or the way I thought you would love me?
Baby I don’t know but we gotta BLOW!

Emergency poem written exclusively for Heather Bell Pepper.

Kim Avila
8/24/2032 838pm

Working Man

Run your sweet rough hands all down my body working man.

Not layin on your momma’s couch. Not hidin in your daddy’s basement.

Workin man you can lay all up in my bed. The promise of those hard brown arms makin me think these chores might wait.

Not runnin when the job gets tough. No time for stitches.

Workin man it might be a long road home tonight. I’ll meet you there when the sun goes down.

Not leavin when the life gets hard. Strap down that load when love seems fragile.

Workin man by my side. Workin man in my bed. Workin man in my blood. Workin man in my head.

Kim Avila #lettingherout

To Bad Hombre. The love of my life.



Today feels so heavy. The effort too great. Seemingly unable to meet my obligations this fine morning.

Sunshine. Fresh breeze. Russia and China sitting in a tree. K – I – S – S – I – N – G.

My sweet sisters of the north. Wrap your courage round your shoulders tight as you send your babies off to school.

Kim Avila



Home of the Brave

What was it all for?

What did you think you were doing?

The guns the vests the badges.

All that swagger. All that bravado.

Yet it seems you all left at home 

the one thing those babies

needed you to bring that day.

Your balls.

Not one.

Not one “officer” brave enough.

“Orders”? “Orders”?

You should have taken down 

anyone who stood in your way.

Anyone who stood in your way

to save babies 

wearing t-shirts.

While you straightened 

your bullet proof vests in the hallway.

Lay down your badge now.

Lay down your gun.

The babies needed a hero.

There were none.


*I’m NOT sorry if you are offended or feel I’ve jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry that there are 19 mommies and daddies crying their eyes out. I’m sorry that there are brothers and sister so very devastated. I’m sorry that I share dirt with people who think their petty desires are more important than protecting the innocent. I’m sorry that border patrol agents who have no problem shooting unarmed immigrants fleeing tragedies, didn’t have the guts to take down someone killing 10 year olds for an hour. I am NOT sorry that you don’t like what I have to say. This is art. This is therapy. This is a mother of 5 children and 5 grandchildren’s response to this insanity.


Painted like the sky

So be still with me my love

while the flames just pass us by.

And all of our struggles

will be painted like the sky.

Sweet sick Kim,
Do not question that. Just bathe in it. Your struggle is so heavy. Forgive yourself if you don’t do it perfect. Don’t worry about why they don’t understand. Hold yourself tight. Wipe your own tears sweet woman. Some days are harder than you can explain.
There might be no answers. There might be no cure.  There might be no reconciliation that doesn’t feel like failure.  There might be only imperfect attempts at raw human contact. 
I’m not even sure if it matters why you struggle or if you should struggle.  Not sure.
I have no answers.
Just wake up tomorrow and try one more day.  One more day.

Published tonight so I have to read it tomorrow.

Brush, Colorado.

Coat spawn

Back to Back

Back to Back

At last my love.
So long a road.
At last we seem to have perhaps learned.
To stand back to back.
Together. Turn the fire out not in to ourselves.
So long a road.
But here we are.
Here we stand
still standing

Space For Love


Did I come off as overbearing?
With my endless unsolicited and ever more elaborate suggestions.
Did it feel like I think
I’ve got it all figured out.
Perhaps my own business was the one I should attend to.

But did you know love.
That I was desperate to help you.
But did you know love.
That the place you hold in my heart is such
that I can’t just look away.
Leave you there.
Hurt and searching.

Can we make a space between us that has room for all of that?
Space enough for my fierce love.
For my mistakes made trying to scream over the thunder.
Words talked over.
Moments misread.

Can we make a space between us with room for error?
Space for misunderstandings to turn to dust.




Kim Avila
(Written at Kaiser clinic)


You wish me to be more calm.
More relaxed. Gently overlooking. Graciously sharing. Not jealous just loyal.
But darling. That isn’t how I love you.
I love you like a volcano.
Without warning. Exploding ash into the sky.
I love you like flames licking your feet.
My glowing jewelry lava fingers chasing you trapping you trying so gently to caress you.
Always escaping until my fingers reach the ocean.
Where they at last cool and we can be together in my fine steam I have made for us.

Kim Avila

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