seattle ghost stories

walking around the town in the rain, surfless and friendless, one of the saddest things i have to see with my eyes, are all these broken down old, faded flaccid basketball nets and backboards and then my brain has to picture all these long grown children playing horse and motherfucker in puddle pocked alleys, with all their old and grown up friends and mothers and fathers, and moved away to college goodbyes and no one ever takes these damned things down, but for gravity
this home across from the capital hill Safeway, was a run down apartment building for decades before this really expensive renovation, well done, and not bulldozed~

volunteer park is home to some really wonderful trees, and, of course. . . hot dog poachers


this big mutha' just POPS, with color~



the reachy slithery branches speak to me~




nice hilt, if you like girthiness~





nothing i can say, can surpass the simplest of words






if Rothko was out tagging shit







we all worked across the street from this house for years and watched as nothing ever changed, the economy rose and rose and fell and crumbled and two nicely dressed older gals lived separate lives in separate trailers parked in the backyard of their huge empty haunted house








mother/ daughter/ sisters/ lovers/ with no answers, no hello, or conversations started, all questions









things started to be painted, lawns trimmed, newer cars










the perfect haunted house~ to- two regular ladies to play average office worker witch











the place has needed a new roof for over three decades












i heard talk on the street, at yard sales that, they live out back because you don't have to pay taxes on abandoned houses, i speculate, that the ghosts asked them to leave, the ghosts of someone they love, and couldn't bare to leave~ but to the lawn













somebody added some french doors off of the dinning room at some point, nobody uses the front door and every Halloween i forget to drive passed, throw eggs, TP the trees or dare to spend the night















opposed to what people with good jobs would like to build the future with, glass, steel, triangles, manicured lawn, no people















i have never seen children here, just smokers
















modern forests, decorative, manageably sized and clean


















versus, the world i moved into, full of punkers, queens, longhairs and drunks, within confined space warnings of apartment building just too damn huge to ever destroy, which of these future America's will finally triumph is hard to tell from here on the ground, will the world be a run down ghetto, or some plastic perfect vacuum, childless, quiet, single white people walking small dogs, and driving small fast cars, or screaming, violent smelly, hordes of pedestrians, laughing with ghetto ghosts, without value



















the state spent all of our cash on new buildings viz; the new library, city hall, police departments and headquarters, fire stations, and building unused light rail, and because of this- this little elementary school is being closed, among others, the sun and weather and neglect will wash away a child's visions




















George Washington in pink gown cooking a hat/ no hands/ no feet/ fat merman's tail





















octopus face






















Modern living has slowly been creeping into our neighbourhoods, but, can never compete with the true narrative of place~
this very building for instance, built over land owned by the church, over the smushed bishops house, where he lived since the great depression, died, and had his daughter sell the land out from under the church, and where the excavators found the privy, long forgotten out back and full of mason jars loaded with 1930's cash, thousands of dollars, extorted, embezzled, hidden and forgotten~
modern living has no such stories~
but for the luminous tales ejaculating from flatscreened HD LED TV~
N~
























2 comments:

  1. who lives behind the door under that slide?!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Good post.
    Hynes

    ReplyDelete

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