books i got today are:

1.) terminal boredom by izumi suzuki

2.) the wild silence by raynor winn

3.) blow your house down by gina frangello

4.) monkey boy by francisco goldman 

5.) for the people by larry krasner

there was a big wind and i lost my head and then i got the vaccine and i had the post cortisol post shot anticipation obamaland pre-construction blues and darn it i feel good.

 blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. them that's got shall have, them that's not shall lose. blah blah, blah blah, blah blah.

 whelp, kids, i got the shot. the anticipation was the only bad part. everybody there was so nice. a little tingly and then smiles and gratitude all around waving to everyone, see you next time, good weekend, thank you thank you thank you. 

 last night we saw the philly d.a. and tonight we finish and i hope it goes on because it's thrilling to see somebody with integrity and smarts confront the system from within. it's fun to watch the people look so dumbfounded, like they can't imagine anything in the police state would ever change except for more incarceration and more killing police.

 then i found larry krasner's book for the people at the library and this is amazing, i got the vaccine and i'm a fan of a district attorney! this will tell you something about the strangeness of the world—an armchair anarchist like me!

 i want you to know no flowers were harmed in this picture. some other chucklehead did it and then left the bloom to die unseen, and i put it on lulu's head to make it last a while. lulu may not be have the still soul of mister, and i have to hold her head until a po-po comes and parks and lulu gets still as a statue and stares and i say thanks kid, but don't stare at the po-po! you got to ignore the po-po and act natural. but i am natural, i can hear her say, i do not like the po-po.

you rat the lake.

 big wind today. pushed tears out of my eyes. had to see what they do to our little swamp, our pebble beach. they dump rip rock, pour blobs of concrete, they'll pave the whole shore eventually, every progress temporary, can't control the tide, you rat the lake, but you can't stop the rise.

 the women's circle garden obamaland staging ground.

 

                                                                                                                                   the future is precarious.                                                                            future?

 

 some things that seem strong are really tenuous and some that seem tenuous are really strong.

  It now is clear the interests of the global capitalists are different from the interests of the rest of collective humanity. And because of that understanding, the warmongers are finding it a little more difficult to mobilize the public to protect imperialist interests.

 

Black Alliance For Peace

 ochre is the word of the day, or the morning let's say. i like the sound. i hear the sound of the ochre dirt under foot on the goat trail on amorgos island, see a mound where a dig was abandoned, i pick a tooth out of the ochre dirt.

 i recall being lost in the shawnee forest. after wandering anxious for a while i came to a deep bed of moss and lay down, and the lost feeling grew into wonder. that was forty-three years ago, now i'm more than three times that lost age. it's different being lost in the city, yet sometimes i lay down in the park and feel the imprint of the moss in the forest that day and the sparse trees of the city park meld and weave like in the forest over me.

 braiding sweetgrass gets me thinking about the transition from the market economy to the gift. how we get from theft to gift. it hurts my head to think everything stolen was once given.

 reality is what's unbelievable.

 

in the state of grace, you can see the profound beauty, once unreachable, of another person. everything, in fact, acquired a kind of halo that was not imaginary: it came from the splendor of the almost mathematical radiance of things and of people. you'd start to feel that everything that exists—person or thing—was breathing and exhaling a kind of fine sheen of energy. that energy is the world's greatest truth and is impalpable. 

clarice lispector                                                                                               an apprenticeship or the book of pleasures
 

 hi how are you where you been i have not seen you since you were littler than me let us get nutty right now on the sidewalk here for though we are neighbors you never know when we will see us each other together again.

have some respect for nature kids specially when the adults don't respect your nature have extra respect on a planet dying despite what the adults said or did or said they will do you can't trust them anymore.

have some respect, kids!—just cuz you live in obombaland in trumpworld in bidentime doesn't mean you have to brutalize the tulips and daffydils. have a nice rest of your day.

 

 

i don't know sometimes what anything means.

 bear pooped in a tulip bed and had a grass rope dangling from her butt. she came over to me on the sidewalk looking for help. while i pulled the rope a worker waited to pass. sorry i said.

 juju was so hungry he was eating a crown of thorns this morn, after which he licked the door screen.

 good morning dragonfly. it's still cold and i wish i could have brought you inside, but when you woke maybe penny cat would have chased you and tried to eat you before you got your wings moving at speed. how long can you be in chill-coma? i'll look for you today!

i always felt his face was a mask and the mask had become the face. even the eyes. he the man was all face and all mask, his being a persona, not a person, a smile masking vacancy.

oh i guess perhaps it's true for all of us. we learn to play ourselves, but who are we really? maybe some of us choose the mask they become and some it just happens to you.
 

dragonfly in a chill-coma on the grounds of the construction of the future obamaland.

today they dug a long ditch leading to the running track where obama's white tower will rise illuminated with his most winning slogans etched into its face. i accept change, but i'm not indifferent, when self-serving self-mythologizing career opportunists come and take over the park and push the people out of the neighborhood. i accept that money and power advertise hope and make change.

 we need a decent human being.

but i don't wanna go to obombaland,

i wanna stay here.
 

 first dragonfly of spring falulu.

 i found a dragonfly in the cold snap grass. it couldn't fly and held onto my finger for warmth.

why are you shooting me?

 raise a hand. stop the killer state.

 at last! they're building obombaland! his second coming! his paradise on earth! right here in our park! his kingdom — in our neighborhood!

 there was unrest last night, the police circling, engines racing and roaring. r. watched the artist is present, i read an apprenticeship or the book of pleasures. a human being's most pressing need was to become a human being. then quiet, soft rain. 

                                                         ++++

"Not understanding" was so vast that it surpassed all understanding — understanding was always limited. But not-understanding had no frontiers and led to the infinite, to the God. It wasn't a not-understanding like that of a simpleton. What was good was having an intelligence and not understanding. It was a strange blessing like that of having madness without being crazy. It was a gentle disinterest toward the so-called matters of the intellect, a sweetness of stupidity.

But sometimes the unbearable anxiety would come: she wanted to understand enough so that she'd at least become aware of everything she didn't understand.

Clarice Lispector

An Apprenticeship or THE Book of PLEASURES

 

Developing wisdom into the present conditions of white supremacy must include waking up to the unacknowledged genocide of Indigenous Nations in the United States. Genocide is embedded in the current racial injustices experienced in the BIPOC communities today. This understanding allows white settlers to go beyond guilt and shame and move into action and accountability.

Healing Minnesota Stories

 the anna's hummingbirds put a pause in the trans-mountain pipeline by placing nests along the path. from small things big things come.

 

Watch out now, take care                                                                                 Beware of falling swingers
Dropping all around you
The pain that often mingles
In your fingertips
Beware of darkness
Watch out now, take care
Beware of the thoughts that linger
Winding up inside your head
The hopelessness around you
In the dead of night
Beware of sadness
It can hit you
It can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for
Watch out now, take care
Beware of soft shoe shufflers
Dancing down the sidewalks
As each unconscious sufferer
Wanders aimlessly
Beware of Maya
Watch out now, take care
Beware of greedy leaders
They take you where you should not go
While Weeping Atlas Cedars
They just want to grow, grow and grow
Beware of darkness (beware of darkness)

 

 

Leon Russell                                                                                                   Beware of Darkness