beer tree

this is a tree that the arborist have turned to stump and a subsequently a bush

scenes like this with all the accompanying smells are why i don't eat too many Bon Mi sandwiches anymore or Pho'

look down from high places and everything looks like this

bad penmanship~great name

i walked 9,513 steps or 6.3 miles to take pictures of this car, and i tried to explain to the kids the meaning of a two-door hardtop, and Dashiell asked if we could get one, and hell, yeah, kid~
more of this crazy at my van blog, go click over

god was watching me walk, from that window, with a telescope and a rifle

a crazy colored church, a church is like gods shirt~ hey, look he's lost a button, spilled some wine, forgot a tie

you can't see it here but they actually painted the sidewalks the same color

this is where i go to acupuncture, within one of these old Seattle school buildings, inside the ceilings are 14 foot tall, the windows are monolithic, the floors are heavily wooded, the stairs have grooves worn inches into them from thousands of buster brown's

i love this building, now a community center

la centro de la raza

they have classes and daycare and belly dancing and homestead assistance, when i walk the halls i feel friendly + out of place. . .oh, wait, that's me everywhere

this could be Oklahoma, Monroe, or Calgary~i never want to live in a world without dirt roads, mud puddles or you

how long does a tarp have to lay on the earth before the earth fights back with carpets of moss armies

these trails lead to places i don't really need to go~ to where some people have to go~ a home,a tent, a lean~to a drug deal or a secret graffiti party~ as opposed to this questing walking i do on trails made by large corrupt city governments, between homes and shops and alone with my own stupid thoughts, today i have bored even myself,

read a brief discussion as to whether humans were still wild, or have now become domesticated

the answer is you. . . and me

my Seattle is inhabited by homes draped in blue tarps, laminated in plywood, guarded by wreaked vehicles. . . always fenced

when i take these pictures i expect a fight~ confrontations, guns, knives, dogs, and crazy

but i know that the rain creates this affect, and that we, even we, will end up old with leaking roof tops, bank accounts dried up, the relatives long moved off, even you will be forgotten, with a crumbling home against the elements and decades enslaved to a body that should have been carpeted in shag orange dreams

faces, people, and nature all look wonderful from this distant i need this much distance~ one of the ten things i don't like about myself is this very distance

unbelievably, some hobo is building a race car, you don't see racing slicks laying about everyday he's building an engine out of beer cans, condoms and yeah, a dream

dense behind the fence is the title for this weeks book of poems, to be written ~spell checked and thrown into the garbage

on our way to the lake dressed in wetsuit, glad i wasn't pulled over or broke down

can you spot the little van poem

my family joins me on these outings, here i am rescuing lazy dog balls

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

today i wanted to see how cold lake Washington really is so i put on my 4.3 wet suit and paddled out to my buoy and then north to the others and the little beach, very cold, but invigorating, walking and swimming and tight line, and surfing are the only things which can save me, here's a film from out in the lake

and the most frightening baby doll i have ever seen

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