- The dogs of Manhattan seem miserable, caged even leashed outside, piss-smells on nothing but hydrant and concrete, flinch too many humans flinch honking cars flinch fucking sirens.
- Walked from Penn Station to Whitney Museum then weaved through Greenwich Village (got to Houston, didn't go to Soho) then 5th up from 10th to Broadway and Broadway through Times Square up to Museum of Art and Design where Broadway meets 8th and 60th but ran out of time, walked south on 8th to 31st and Penn Station and Earthgirl and bus home.
- Had two slices, one for breakfast, one before bus ride home, I cannot get pizza like this in Moco or DC, the fuck is wrong with people around here.
- I am not the dog-whisperer the cat-whisperer I am, but I can talk to dogs and not a single dog of the dozens of dozens I saw but the three pit-bulls who each adopted a homeless guy I gave food too smiled at me.
- I would love a four day weekend in NYC once a year, that's enough.
- Astonishing David Wojnarowicz exhibit at Whitney (photo above taken from a Whitney outdoor terrace looking east, below, Wojnarowicz).
- Jim has been hiking western Canada.
- It’s nice to have some insights into why you’re fucked up, but if those insights don’t lead to the ability to become less fucked up, the exercise is somewhat sterile.
- Clown School.
- Your weak under way.
- Notes on a premature attempt at a 21st C novel canon.
- I love art but can't draw, I love music but can't sing, since seven I've asked myself, if given choice of one, which? today it's...
ONE POSSIBLE MEANING
This afternoon the park is filled with brides.
Among varieties of persuasion the big trees turn back toward the forest.
Adventurers gather in side streets.
The police are looking hard at the sky.
Down at the bay, boys trapped in solitude fish.
Girls hike their pants and stare at the wave line,
remembering secrets they once held dear.
The day offers a ridiculous variation as
an excuse for not coming in on time.
Wild imaginings take the place of religion.
Someone who can't swim offers to cook.
We've devised a means for the obstinate children
to be fed, she says, but no one understands this.
We crave affection, but give only advice.
There are walls topped with broken bicycles.
Someone makes an obscene offer and this
is the best we get all day. Oh don't give in
so easily she says, handing over the keys.
We climb the blue fire escape.
We would like to keep going,
skyline climbers, old men remembering their childhood
who devise a few illegal experiences no one wants to try.
It gets to be more than the officers can take.
The park is dusty, dark, yet the children,
ignored all day, play on, convinced their dedication
releases a magic that changes everything.