woke with an alarm, gentle nudge from sarahís
phone at 7:30.
it was urgent, she wanted to get out in the rain
& mud of a tukwila
to plant willow
stems--what could i do but say yes?
morning, grey, at city fringes, temporary
the urban imperative, here comes a man with one
struggling in a wheelchair, he lives here in a
comfort but his pitbull, the only one to protect
itís a cruel fucking system.
billionaires should not exist.
itís all relative. no
one needs thousands of times more than
on the lowest peg. greed is a mental illness.
evening, we paid to see Itís A Wonderful Life,
that sentimental, all-American
of the evils of unfettered capitalism, an
horror film that calls individualism into
the feeling i had was of a bunch of
trying too hard to hide their true
feelings. you could
hear the sniffling but we all tried to
stifle our tears.
what's wrong with crying? what are we