walk like this 

Picture of the Day
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March 21, 2001

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"merry christmas" graffiti on rusty barbed wire wall
near this car a sign read: someone is letting their dog kick the beauty bark out of the tree beds.
fucking geese
green leaves near water reclamation facility, i.e., sewage treatment plant
which of you is the one for me
who goes there?

woke up and went for a run, something i haven't done since the last time a few weeks ago when it hurt my right hip after just a few blocks and i ended up sitting in setting sun outside marketime drinking coffee happy as a bum. i found a baseball in woodland park, far from any diamond, where children with the truly observant will notice by now that these words have changed, all within explained, a little more obscure than usual but that's just a symptom of your own disease, an addiction to text and flickering lights, images instead of reality. it's a sickness, really, and ever since childhood i have been afflicted, seeking to preserve moments like a taxidermist, glass-eyed trophies of successfull safaris. after just about a block i saw a mailman on his rounds and he took it, no problem. where to now? from where i stood i could see the military communications orb of discovery park nestled like a landing pod on sandy bluff overlooking puget sound and suddenly i had my destination. it was a long walk, ticketing SUVs as i went, but every step was its own trip and soon enough, too soon maybe, i was on south beach building a driftwood teepee. sarah met me, i was cold in shorts and shortsleeves, she lent me her mittens, we examined rocks and shells and a tiny dead crab. a stylish woman who could've been a model smiled to herself as she drew circles in the sand with a stick. we walked back along the water near chittendon locks where some bums were having a cookout (too early in the season for respectable people, a long limb was leaning into pedestal barbeque, just its tip burning like a wick and it smelled good) and sarah said she loved me, the lights across the canal painting long yellow streaks in dusk's purple water. a floating duck flapped itself aloft, sending ripples out where its wings touched the surface. we caught the 44 back home from ballard and ate spicy tofu at paseo, lollipops and magazines for appetizers as we waited for our order.

p.s. i forgot to mention the nice piece of tooled aluminum i found by railroad tracks (good for melting or maybe something else), and the old roosevelt dime squashed flat when trains still ran and lost all these years in the grass.