neilwaukee: my seattle

the world into which i was thrown is desolate, dark and devoid of cars ~ populated with the mad, crazy, homeless and very old

is painted in huge swaths of monochromatic washes~

boarded over

and closed

thrown out

a hidden~

tossed aside

Delicious

an unintended beauty, created with a carelessness

hole

Three

i ~overwhelmed within an undersea diorama of life sized useless

future bedroom ceilings~ crushed glass carpet~ highway skylights~ blackberry nightstands

a curving fluid dislocated sunken crumminess

talk to yourself

in sweaty window condensate conversation

of caged gods and Gundom*

* toy giant fighting robots

food with faces on a hook of honesty

touch it !

a mirrored blindness

this is where the robots live, robots from 1940's stories, before the cold war, before they turned to monsters, back when they were just like us, sad, lonely and wondering why ?

the things we build look like third world amusement parks

where safety cones accentuate the missing

the perfectly flawed patina

i can't begin to explain ~ this everything~ moment

after the war, the war we lost, against poverty, racism and class

rusted horror noir

broken plate glass time travellers

alien languages~ framed with building~ whole buildings

everything completely broken, bent, rotten twisted and functional

nothing to own~ hold in your hands or stuff into pockets

what happened at the Baldwin ? the greens are so very institutional, the brick all poor and in need of pointing, the ground floor windows all plywood sheathed, the tenants used to have drive up drug windows, thus the boulders on the sidewalks, the uninviting entrance~ a stepped on class

after all the wars were lost we turned the nations police, courts and judges to the war on drugs~

to lose that too~

one day we'll open the prisons and find. . . ourselves

i pretend to have favorites

and i do~ MOSS

and sunsets with children and you

NE!L~

some god woke up very early this morning

the lights across the street at the church burned on~ surprisingly early~ for someone to bang around amongst the pews~ would some god need to turn the lights on ?

with frail hope

along the loneliest street in my neighbourhood

a shimmering path of shattered glass

i walk these pre~dawn streets a drift~ directionless~

the spreading reach of desires frustration chopped off

read a book about clouds and remember nothing, cirrus, stratus or nimbus

flat and screwed

pulled out

a brown attracts my eye, paints a door my camera can't translate

i love my streets~ nude car~less

i love you boarded up, painted/tagged and de~shrubbed abandoned structures

modern cubic functional useless~ you beautifully eye-soar

back when i wandered the streets of NY these machines used to ring as you passed, and ring and ring

everything and nothing important ?

say it ~ sexy ~ with a whisper

cardboard deterrents to consummation

if you have cash or vices/ i wanted to take pictures of hats/ and couldn't make myself walk in

brown, really brown electric meters

a block away~ i've never been

constantly drawn to this storefront, this is the most beautiful building in town~hands down without contention, if i could bestow a plague or trophy this building would wear a crown of glamorous magazine covers~ WINNER my original post on this space, suggested they sell only marshmellows, dandruff and cum, may i add, clouds, frost and milk ?