culture is formed on the sidewalk 

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yesterday | today tomorrow

April 30, 2001

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because you forgot to ask, i'm going to tell you the story of my life.
it starts and ends with today, and even that is too late. after walking
about the neighborhood in gorgeous sunshine and finding in the road
a seattle's best travel coffee cup, i returned home just in time for the 4
pm woodpecker on the birdclock (a gift from my sister). i got a hair up
my ass, whatever that means, and tuned in to NPR because sometimes
i think i should keep abreast of the news of the world. the commentator
kept commenting on the weather, saying, hey, wow, anyone with sky-
lights must now be sorry, after all that hail and rain
, and all i could
do was wonder what the hell she was talking about, this so-called news
of weather that never happened brought to us by pfizer pharmaceutical.
anyway. the day got a lot better with a visit to the kalakala where i carved
a fish skeleton in sand but had to leave before it was poured because sarah
and i wanted to see arne pihl, michael warr, where your mouth is, and
robertkarimi perform as part of the 4th annual poetry festival. following
was a film about Poet-O--a strange coincidence as I'd just recently finished
editing my own footage of a reading he performed in New York a little over
3 years ago
. midnight, not quite tired, i walked down the hill to steve's,
bumped into japhet & azur driving home from breakdance night @ Nation.
's eye was swollen from having done friendly battle with rick, who'd pinched
steve's dog nigel. the fight had scared off the foundry crew, so i'd have to wait
to see how the bronze fish turned out. after some cold carlo rossi blush, pat, steve
& i donned wigs and costumes and, calling ourselves LAST CALL, serenaded
Ballroom bar-goers on their way out. we made something like seven bucks but it
was too late to get another bottle. luckily, this was an evening of inexplicable chance
meetings, so bob and his friends shared some bud around a bonfire and we sang
made-up songs until about 4. i walked home alone, stopping only to lie down on a picnic
table at the school across the street where i watched the stars racing behind the clouds,
a little bit of relativity and quiet, just me and a water fountain waiting for dawn.