we had a bad argument last night and it continues today. what happens is

cataclysmic and unthinkable. i feel shaken and my brain ceases to 

function and i wonder if i'm sane. it's a desperate feeling. yesterday 

somebody said we must not fall into despair. we need to grieve, but if we 

despair we are truly lost. can we come back? and will we still be afraid 

it might happen again and keep on happening with brief respites, 

endlessly? during bear walk this redtail hawk came to the 

fire escape and looked in at penny and then r. i was too late. the 

visitor came for r. i thought it was a good thing, and maybe things would 

come into balance. no. something happened again that stops us, that we 

can't get past. maybe it's me and my insanity. 

walk two. i can't think about this either. it's unthinkable. this can't be. 

i feel so hopeless today. it's a grim reality—it's just another day.

 forget it, mou. it's Obamaland.

 i can't think what to do. just go get bear and go to the water. maybe my head will clear. it's been storming intermittently for days. we live in a cataclysm. walk number two. tomorrow ends.

maybe for example the word evil has no meaning, maybe it's just a hurt word for hurt that becomes an object which contains what it symbolizes. maybe words only refer to what is missing. maybe what's beyond words is incomprehensible in words.

it doesn't matter in the end if it's called evil or money —

 it's just words.

words packed with energy, words that hurt.

i should have remained silent when i couldn't speak after the film agent orange i'm really terrified like when i learned we all die about seven years and not only that we get killed off like we don't matter and it makes no difference that we were born we're just one more or less i didn't want to speak about it i just wanted to cry but i mumbled the same inarticulate things not knowing what to say worried i'll never understand and can't say anything 

 

 

what if i can't understand what constitutes evil and what is simply regular people wanting to make a profit, no matter who is hurt? what if there is no evil and no mitigation? what if i can't bear to live in such a world that makes agent orange to destroy a country and its generations and then turns and does the same thing to it's own people and is free to continue business at home and the world. if business is just business when it destroys people and the environment then what constitutes evil? is it only a way of characterizing the normative business of the country? why would i want to characterize toxic business as evil. what good would it do me? why should it still shock me that death is business?

i've had this conversation before, and apparently i say the same thing every time. isn't that characteristic of the insane? it's alright, it's not that different really from acting sane. it's just the opposite side. i do wish this moment and from now on i could erase the film of agent orange from my mind.

 they say we always been greedy son of a guns. that's why they get away 

with murder.

anouk and me.

 me and anouk are becoming indigenous to this point.

 wild angel little bear. 

 we're soaked to the bone here and portland has lethal heat. twice as much heat trapped since 14 years ago. and fossil fuel is still king says uncle joe. the oligarchs will kill us off. let's pray, little bear, cuz these mofos are crazy.

here come comet.

 while i was following that dog and person i saw comet running to see me. 

he gets uppity with lulu as she's too bonkers so i get her to sit for a 

moment and say i'll have to see you alone my boy. mary says i told comet 

you're coming back. and i ask are you happy? he smiles, i smile, lulu 

smiles, mary smiles. we're all smiling and i forget about that poor dog 

on a too short leash.

 i know sometimes the things we find intolerable are things we have in common, and that's reason to think critically about both. this leash is too short. this person won't even let the dog walk on the grass. i've shortened the leash myself when i get frustrated and the dog is walking crazy, but this dog seemed calm and just wanted to sniff the strip of grass by the sidewalk. i'm thinking, this is a walk? the dog must be so frustrated. of course i don't know the story, i only see this moment. it makes me think about how i walk and how i'm seen. 

walk three, little bear gets her wings.

 

 when we come in the house bear runs down the hall and brings a towel to me.

Paws for Anarchy.

 we took shelter from the storm in the tunnel of anarchy. the anarchic spirit bleeds through. we shall not be erased so easily. 

A is for Anarchy.

 

 bear walk three. we get caught in an existential downpour, and bear gets her angel wings.

no, it is a dance.

there is only so much that we can stop, alas. 

oyez—may his tower complex
  
in the people's park

be a perpetual swamp 

for 99 years.

 i guess i missed something. there was an injunction 3 years ago against the opc construction of a new track and field to replace the existing one where the center would be. now it's complete and i wonder what happened to the injunction. ah, fuck, it's all too much for my head. but the brand new track and field to me is symbolic the deal is really done. i wish i could just stop thinking about it and start learning to live with the o-bomb.

how the water sees me helps me when i see myself too doggone seriously.

lucky with the dogs it was dry except for the swampy where the obama dig is happening. let us pray their efforts are swamped daily. 

i got home and wrote suchlike and noting the sky getting heavy rode to the point and jumped in the lake. there were several terns swirling and diving. i was happy in that water under the terns and the puffy clouds. and then it grew dark and i pedaled home before the clouds dropped.

pax and lulu. 

i do not think a sweet golden boy (especially 

one named pax) wants a prong collar, 

but at least the kid pax has loose neck skin and magical golden fur 

and goodness for protection, and at least young pax's paw lets 

pax frolic with m' lulu, thanks be to dog. 

yesterday i saw a girl, with dog 

muzzled and prong-collared walking

among the sunbathers on promontory point, heads turn, 

we live in a precarious place 

of sometimes strange notions in the forsaken nation state. i did not get 

a picture—just in my mind, but you know what i'm saying—you can 

by knowing picture it.

kids, we got a long history of hate here in the forsaken country

of our short and brutal occupation, 

and the hateful history of hate is not here ended. so, anyway, far be it from me to add hate for the haters— 

peace be upon you today. 

love, mou 

 how to touch the mou. i told the teacher about seeing the racist rip the art down. she said yeah, it looks pretty bad now, we have to redo it. i said thank you, i appreciate you, it's a good civics lesson for the kids, you're doing a good thing. and mou likes you too.

 please do not touch the protest art. please touch the mou lightly.

 sonamabitch, obama. he gets the prime real estate wherever he goes, martha's vineyard, hawaii, and he got jackson park for free (well 10 bucks for 99 years).

 just another day in hellorutopia, aka obamaland. it's all about the land. that's it. even if it's built on water.