.
Sectional (northwest Berkeley): photo by efo, 25 July 2012
The carefully staged tracking shots captured the breadth
DUI unit (Berkeley): photo by efo, 12 August 2012
of the hopelessness
Along the tracks, Berkeley: photo by efo, 1 July 2012
appropriately -- as if
Post office wall argorama (Berkeley): photo by efo, 15 November 2009
NTSC (Berkeley): photo by efo, 14 August 2012
9 comments:
Have you seen these photos captured by Google street view?
http://9-eyes.com/
Grief exists in a little wooden bowl
I show to others
It looks like I am begging
For them to see it
Her absence very present
It is a puzzle I do not want
Although the bowl is very small
It is still too big for me
Actually, The World’s Most Difficult Puzzle
Cut from an obscure landscape, unappealing
Like this poem, it was carved
From very soft wood
The area an old burn
Sanding it smooth takes the most effort
My intention is supposed to be beauty
Yet it is the beast who is my focus
Drinking from strange water
A routine that is intense, natural, blind.
Anatomical. A heart, realistically speaking.
A visitor broke up the tedium
Of the reports—news of the
Sudden appearance. It was a logger,
A worker, she said. Mystery
Not quite solved but suddenly
Made infinite. Interesting. Distracting.
To never fit into this world.
Nora, Jon Rafman's blown-up street views leave no question as to whether Big Brother's eyeball is upon us at all times and in all places. Scary and amazing.
The world's little wooden bowl of grief spills over into the street.
Stuff hangs around.
Some things refuse to be used up.
Something remains
even when there’s nothing there
anymore—
“useful lifetime” consumed,
productivity worn to the bone,
“useful consciousness’’ gone dark
expired.
The ur-delusion:
we can make this work,
this civilization thing.
We’ll fix it in the final mix.
It’ll be boffo. You’ll see.
Right planet,
wrong species.
We tried.
Back to zero.
Shopping cart as burial wagon.
Things inside out
what should be in
is out
unplugged, rusting.
Nights spent
a few hours
in the dryness
of the Post Office
3:30 ante meridiem
then moving to the couch
before seeking bushes
for sleeping
so tired the traffic
the least
of my worries
you cannot imagine
the list.
(also)
The Uhr delusion--
our time so short
what to do
but give way
to give it away
invisible potlatch
glimpsed
during the drive-by
humpies struggling
in the shallows
just past the deep end.
Susan, I love everything about "(also)"
"The invisible potlatch". Yes.
Jon Rafman's selection of outtakes is indeed scary and amazing, Tom . . . and disturbing. Snapshots from a planetary madhouse. Thanks to Nora for the link.
Thanks so much people. Your brilliant input enables the essential carrying-on. (Struggling upstream wasn't built in a day, nor on one struggler's wits alone.)
Hazen's "shopping cart as burial wagon" -- indeed! -- put us in mind of:
Market
And to the same generous friend we owe also the spark ("The Ur delusion") that has ignited this flash from our unflagging Correspondent of the Many Waters:
Susan Kay Anderson: Humpies ("our time so short")
What better thing in this life so short than an unselfish group effort?
Love this, Tom. It's comforting to know that whenever I visit, there's something waiting for me that will make my days better.
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