mister and me we had a righteous swim. the water is perfect.  
on the way we talked to a dog friend, union man. i said it's a mournful holiday. i said i'm mourning to celebrate what could have been and might be, something so rare and unlikely. he said he'd be happy with the same old same old half-assed demockrisy. 
then we saw a couple swoon over mister. the guy said there are two pictures on the refrigerator, and none of him, yet. they had three goldens. 
we talked about the soul of a dog, how it grows. how we grow with it. i said that's what i think we might evolve into, if we do good. the soul of a dog.
i see the good neighbors staking out territory. they're already roasting the beasts. tomorrow the place will be strewn with carcasses, burnt casings and little melted plastic flags. 
we had a glory of a swim. we saw our nude friend. she had a one piece on today. we saw a cop couple by a wagon by the big tree. we skirted them on the new bike path and came around. i noticed they were taking pictures of the skyline so figured they were ok. we circled back down the sea wall and they smiled and waved. we had a righteous swim.
on the way back as mister rolled in the grass i saw dudes with propane tank and amplifiers and groaned backward. this holiday is a celebration of hell. and a mourning joy. oh, immigrants, i swim for thee.