They say you don't belong here, you are invaders in this land, come from across the sea. Well and good. My grandparents were invaders too, though they were only children. Everyone is welcome who is here, no matter what they say. Everyone is one. Everyone who longs to be belongs.  

 i'll remember when we're gone.

 The whole apparatus is openly genocidal now. It's an arrogant genocidal rogue nation terror state, gnome sane.

 Standing up against the genocidal empire is a must. It's existential.

I remember walking the broken sea wall
with mister, back when it was relatively intact.
Sometimes memory seems of another life.
But it was this life, when it often felt like dreaming awake.
I thought about how we might remember the future,
which seems blank now, in the afterlife.
Sometimes when we remember we may remember a time to come
imagining ourselves coming back around.

 

Goo' morning. Went to the farm market and they still have sun gold tomatoes. Last night tossed and turned and the coyotes called up between dreams. This picture looks worried and is but those lines go back decades and won't fade in this life. Going to the library and the lake.

  In the capitalist empire no one and nothing is free, it's all commodity. Growing up we heard about democracy, not capitalism, or capitalism was just the spread of democracy. The president of the great democracy was always right no matter what was done in the name of democracy. We come to realize, far too late perhaps, that the business of democracy was evil, in other words, with no regard for the sanctity of life, evil was just business, and so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes, until it's gone.

 Watched The Serpent's Path last night. At first I was going, This is absurd, and then I realized it was a dream, then it made sense.

 Olive and I watch Colonial Outcasts, on the topic of Fortress America, the Department of War. How will the empire end? Full spectrum collapse. It's imperially insane. It will threaten the annihilation of anyone in the way.

 It appears the psychotic Usreal regime is aiming to annihilate Iran. That's been the plan of the psychotic regime for many years. The psychotic regime was just waiting for somebody psychotic enough to do the job. Trump's the man for the final trump.

 When we stepped out the door I turned to look back and saw a coyote cross the sidewalk. 

Our animals bridge worlds. Coyote in the graveyard by Frank Murphy. Olive snoozing with me listening to Kali Malone, All Life Long, in bliss, highlighting In Praise of Profanation by Giorgio Agamben, which I shall read this afternoon inshallah.

 I suppose anybody would feel lucky and perhaps blessed by the coyote spirit to have a cat like Olive miraculously found wandering the park. Now she's been here nearly two years. She makes our voices squeak with love. Just cuz.

 Why would anyone in their right mind believe anything the zionists say? The whole premise is a big lie. Word. But this is the predicament we find ourselves in. And they don't care if people believe or not. They just keep on killing.

 don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good, gnome sane? no. i don't. i don't know what you're saying, but go ahead and talk if it pleases you, i like the sound of your voice, and i like to lay on your chest and feel your heartbeat. 

 My first kiss from Owen. I was thinking how people look at us like an old guy with his old dog and yet he's not my dog yet it don't matter we're still two old dogs who look alike.

 they're laughing at you.

 We walked around a Frank Lloyd Wright tour talking about the special bricks and Owen peed on them. The bricks, not the tour. 

 The coyote family by the railroad tracks yelped this morning and we felt again the daily blessing of their presence in the community. Yesterday, after reading further in Coyote America, I watched a video of a coyote tangled in a fence being rescued, and a minute ago I saw a picture of a coyote killed by a driver in daylight on a wide road in Texas. It's always been dangerous for our fellow creatures to live among us, and it's also dangerous, for us. Pleas, pleas, let us find our true nature, and mind the ones who only want to live among us.

 There's too much to say, and we end up saying nothing, in silence, observing, or writing endless poems in our head that sometimes escape into the ether and who knows maybe we're all receiving, maybe all thinking along the same lines, watching and listening to starlings, cats and dogs and coyotes talk about life.