hoodoo you aspect would be king of obombaland? 

the kid said charlie's really cute. i was going to say you're cute too but i thought it might sound weird or something so i said your shirt is really cute. 

but i'll say it here, the kid was really cute,

and kind too.

hans boodleman.

 

in the neighborhood of fairy tales.

 

now the neighborhood has to get clearance from the city to put anything on the roof to make sure obama's tower has a clear unobstructed view. the gall of the the man is stunning, even after his criminal presidency he continues to make galling precedents. the motherfucker thinks he's king.

where did

the water go?

 

 

tears, by philip guston. i love guston's painting. i love the way it turns into the figurative painting. he didn't have to reject the abstract art world, his art grew larger, he painted the felt world. a parable about a country in terminal decline. the dominant narrative corrodes and the eyes protrude. watching with tears. 

whelp, another day in obamaland, huh. 

—?—                                                        

never mind. another day in pointland. with the lost trees and traffic the air smells of exhaust. you know, so you don't want to breathe too deep, but heck, you gotta breathe, and then your frontal lobe gets numb. but his stage is struck, and the protesters returned to their precarious homes in the precarious real estate zone. you're lucky you live on the water. are you going somewhere nice for winter?

we can only consider things so long.

after a while all the information will begin to weigh us down.

after we see the situation we just have to let it go and live with it.

the day is to be experienced, not understood, a sage said.

pour a glass of water into another glass, back and forth. 

consider the choices that may await you. consider the waiting.

when you tire of pouring, breathe deep and drink the water.

thanks to r. for pointing this out— 

from the book of awakening.

 when they call people just trying to make a living and stay in their homes obama haters it's just mean and stupid. the people even say yes, obama, but no displacement. this is the man who after obtaining his nobel peace prize directly became the drone killing deporter in chief. he smiles with the corporate greed and devours the planet to get his piece. i hated what he did before he came and took the park and wrought havoc on the neighborhood. he doesn't represent the neighborhood, he represents the neoliberal empire, the war state elite.

 if i was an activist but i'm not i'd say obama, no, he came to take the park and the neighborhood. the people on the margins will be pushed out. he is the displacer, not the unifier, the pretender, the ground-breaker, born with a silver shovel in mind.

 

and it's only wednesday. did i send you pictures? if not let me know. i know i did. let me know. i still think it's weird gabriel didn't know about the protest. everything is factions. i have to shake the megrims. i'm going to have to step back, though the chaos is at our doorstep. yeah, i sent you pictures, twice. too many pictures too little time too late right, but i have to keep on sending pictures to somebody every day.

  if they looked inside i wonder what they'd find. dad called and i was in the kitchen looking for something to eat. said in a cheery voice, you're talking to a dead man. i'm reading yuri herrera, kingdom cons. this line pops out: it was the rejection of others that defined him. thinking about what we are. what can't be taken away. what must come out someday.             i imagine standing here looking into this tree hollow to remember something long ago, saying this is long ago. saying what do you mean. thinking as listening as answering, all one thing. this tree was still being and other beings were in this tree passing through. this is long ago too. this was and disappeared.

we're sorry 

for everything we need 

we can't save.

 i think i see a teeny tiny obama down there shaking hands. is it a sign of covid that i'm always smelling exhaust? no, it's a sign of exhaust. 

 charlie and me at rockyfeller chapple. 

wolfgang says: the man is evil.  nuff said.

two guys come up to the community protest with their obama sweatshirts and masks and say and here are the haters. i say yeah right, but i don't talk to them. i just take their picture. i take it several times. a big guy at the protest goes up and talks to them and then gets their card and they walk on toward the dais where obama is telling his life story but they won't get anywhere near their idol. and the people will be displaced. 

i missed the highlight, a message in the sky:

 i was ready to cry before but then i find i have no ears of corn when i thought i bought four. still i have have a lot to be thankful for. it's the chaos, it's all the little things that add up to one big thing: the death culture. 

 it's been a sad day, and it's not just obama, far from it. i saw this bird on the southwest corner of 54th and south hyde park boulevard and charlie had a sniff and then i bent down to do a photograph and i saw the bird blinking. i wish i could have waited to see the bird stir from this stunned state and fly up and away from the glass tower. i would be a little less sad today if this little bird could up and fly away.  

i was born by the river, in a little tent                                                            oh, and just like the river                                                                                  i've been running ever since

it's been a long
a long time coming
but i know a change gonna come
oh, yes it will

there was a protest after all. not protect our parks, not save jackson park, not jackson park watch, just the people of the community being displaced (and a couple dudes who called them haters).

there was no united protest, and even if there was obama already had the park in his real estate portfolio. he took it, he bought the law, and the law won.