sometime you pretend to blend, and sometime you show up more. sometime it seem the whole thing run on corruption and dirty oil.

sometime you notice a girl mimic your dog lame walk. sometime you have to hold your dog from blowing sideways in a windbuilding vortex into the intersection traffic while waiting at the stoplight. sometime you laugh. sometime you cry. sometime a girl kid with bottle glasses says hi, honeys to the dog. sometime the dog just make your day. sometime you want to, like, melt with coyote through chain link fence. sometime you think there so much money to be made-- it's hopeless, incalculable, the cost of life. sometime we cannot calculate what we lost. sometime we just count time.

david was tickled by comet's bobbing tail. he handed the ball to hilde. his hand got slobbery. mary came with a friend and played chess and the dogs went gaga. i got a cookie. both dogs pooped at once and we went back the same way. i got another cookie.

when i got back to my bike and rode off my tail end was dragging back and i had a flat. 
i remembered old penny bitching when i locked my bike to the front stair hand rails. maybe her ghost drained the air. 

so i had the flat tired feeling and started sadly pushing home then i though of the bike shop and gave it a try (after dropping my phone which fell to three pieces) and charlie said bring it by though they weren't open yet and he fixed it and also the brakes while i waited and took this picture noting how the squirrels incorporated peoples' old tubes into their nest and charlie said yeah they love the tired tree. here's a shout out to charlie of blackstone bicycle works so reasonable and kind. and so i was normal tired but not flat tired and rolled smoothly with tight brakes to my next walk with mister. it's kind of boring perhaps but i kind of like the rhythm of the words comprising a day. 
while the through line is deflation and it seems we are destined in a strange incalculable way to making the world more toxic day to day and the government is captured by corporate lobbies and war is barely background noise to the clanging of the local machinery, the sinking line is lifted by a strange and familiar elation rising unbidden in the middle of the tired revolving bespoke day.

when g.w.ho said it doesn't matter we'll all be dead, i guess he meant everyone alive now will be the last ones that matter, or that it doesn't matter, because there will be no one to come after us. that's all i remember him saying besides mission accomplished. it's weird to think he's still alive, he's so quiet, just painting away the days that remain.

temptation is not enough to climb the stairs. oh lift me. oh carry me. oh be.

there's a traffic jam for miles accidental by the silent sea.

penny the cat of the day.

he rarely kisses me, we rub noses, but this time feeling inspired by the moment on the bridge when i say kissers? he kisses me, twice, but like the waves i capture the lapse before and after and in between.