some kind of news is shrinking my space,
uniform news for a uniform place, today i wondered-if i was a machine, just
what kind of machine would i be, movies and music are nothing but words, letters like seeds that are eaten by birds but rather than some bird of paradise, these ones are crows who only suffice
when clocks are ticking
and ticking
and ticking away

you know, machines break someday

oooooooooohhhhh lord, the world is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo strange lord canya help me? info overload-- system reboot, just how do we choose which moments of our day will be made into speech is it a choice at all or are our personalities like programs that scan through so much, choosing what pertains what lies in what we discard i wonder is there a way to find out without chemical

when making nylon, as long as you supply the chemicals under the correct processes, the product will never stop making itself

dearest terry et.al.,
please do not throw us in friendship jail!

our weekend of fun was abruptly ended
since consolations must be lended.

wishing of so much snow time mirth
in a cabin like lincoln was birth'd

but alas! t'was birth's opposite
that kept us apart from it.

sorry to all whose funds were decreased
by those who must visit the recently deceased

hoping fun was had by all...
trisha and paul

i am too young it seems, but regardless there is a strange tickling of nostalgia floating on the edges as of late. i am not even a fan of nostalgia, so it is a curious feeling.
even curiouser is a sense of nostalgia for things i haven't even experienced yet. like i will get a glimpse of dappled sunlight through a tree canopy in peru, or holding my child. but these images have an ever so dull edge of sadness that can be sweet, mixed with a weird floating no time feeling.
maybe nostalgia is just the wrong word. but what word might there be? maybe presque vu, i definitely need another language to describe this photo album of the mind thing going on.

maybe these are the first whisperings of my spring.

whoever 'you' are. on franklin/linwood and north there's a tiny park where the skateboarding punks do their grind hootchacallits and generally make a lot of racket or so some namelessentity must think, because a generic sign was put up, just a white background with plain black lettering that says NO SKATEBOARDING. (someone scribbled out the NO w black marker and wrote in yes, ha ha)
there's no city ordinance or penalty violation information on the sign, which leads me to believe it was put up by one of the neighboring businesses, one being a lawyer's firm, the other a dentist. you can't just do that though, it's a park.
the park is also used as a play area for elementary school children who go to the charter school on the same corner. on nice days, they'll all go outside and hoot and holler and play mother-may-i and such whatnot childlike games, but generally cause a ruckus for quiet type citydwellers such as myself, who just want to garden at 2pm. in peace. without the incessant screaming of children. what i need to do is find out who "owns" this park, if the yuppie ass charter school (for which yupass vehicles have made my parking situation bloody torturous) bought it "for the kids" i sure hope not, cause the minute that's negative i'm hanging my own sign that says NO EXCITED SCHOOLCHILDREN right next to the goddamned one about no skateboarding. bah fucking humbug, brats.