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Monday, 10 September 2012



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

in a drive-by

NTSC (Berkeley): photo by efo, 14 August 2012


Nora said...

Have you seen these photos captured by Google street view?

Susan Kay Anderson said...

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.

TC said...

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.

Hazen said...

Stuff hangs around.
Some things refuse to be used up.
Something remains
even when there’s nothing there
“useful lifetime” consumed,
productivity worn to the bone,
“useful consciousness’’ gone dark

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.

Susan Kay Anderson said...

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.

Susan Kay Anderson said...

The Uhr delusion--
our time so short
what to do
but give way
to give it away
invisible potlatch
during the drive-by
humpies struggling
in the shallows
just past the deep end.

Hazen said...

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.

TC said...

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:


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?

Robb said...

Love this, Tom. It's comforting to know that whenever I visit, there's something waiting for me that will make my days better.