in the water we escape the flies, 
though eventually they find mister's nose 
and he can't roll. 
the flies love mister more than most dogs it seems, and more than me, though when i swat them off him they bite me too.  
construction chaos, flesh-eating flies, and injury may plague us but we always try to reach the water. 
the foot is healing i believe. i was lucky. i'm grateful, and cautioned. 
the water and the writing 
and mister and r. and friends are healing me. 
we're all the same, all the difference together, all the same. we want to love, we want to live, together.
i've been seeing the word empathy lately, in the context of lack, the culture of lack, of more and more, mindlessly, and never enough. culture of abuse, culture of waste, money and death. yet empathy grows in the waste. it rises in ruins, as we rise from our culture, from individual sleep. now we rejoin and connect with our innate empathy. love and empathy, kids. love and empathy.