oestre pandemic diary. 12 april 2020.

the plague peacenik is still popping up on my erased memory card so i continue to honor his haunting presence. after all he is me. mister always waits his breakfast til i arrive and give him his curcumin and i step onto the porch for a smoke (just kidding) and take a picture of the upstairs neighbor's car's reflections. then by the jewish fast food joint the alley looks to me like a ghost window with water and rippling light. then a branch smiles with a beaming sunny nose. of course signs speak only for themselves. mister doubles back to a gnome hole in a tree trunk and i check to see he's not eating something ugly. then he looks me sideways and pees. we revisit the pandemic camp to see if the camper has been there and indeed things have shifted places. the wine is no longer visible. r. says you were not social distancing but he's gone i say it doesn't matter she says. and there's a ghoulish head. then there's another dead squirrel under the squirrel knot door in the long branch and i think is that the same that was half dragged from the hole and it's not, the leg is still protruding. squirrels continue to die in the pandemic the same as we do. then i see the lonely mourning dove in the alley behind my mister's but perhaps his mournful sound is only keeping his partner company on her nest under the porch above mister's. then we see the two quarantined kid next door go bonkers for mister who is blissfully unaware of the scamps. on the way home i ride by the busstop i rode by an hour before and it's smashed. so that's my oestre diary up to now 10:45 and i got a olive toast and crunchy peanut butter with green apple to eat before zoom therapy. go with dog even if you hafta stay inside.