communication
conversation intonation
body language
saliva spraying annunciation
tone of voice
your hands are waving
the punctuation away
Can’t understand a word you say
But I catch your drift
Saving for a rainy day
you’ve got a slow leak
and hey
it’s raining
No questions asked
complacently
Predictable you say
Reliable replay
same shirt same shoes same service
The Usual
Have a good day
my coffee tastes like chapstick
my beer tastes like toothpaste
the tatertots taste like chicken
this burrito tastes like Friday
Your neck tastes like summer
How long can one ride around town
running other people’s errands
before they realize
I don’t really care if the
Motion for bifurcation
gets to the judge by noon
How long can one wander the grocery store
with someone else’s shopping list
before they realize
I don’t even like asiago
or pork rinds
or pimento loaf
Time to think in one of my favorite men’s rooms. All the tenants on this floor have moved out. Downsized consolidated sub-leased quit foreclosed defaulted moved on. Empty. Seattle is a bit behind the curve with just a hint of denial hanging in the air. The construction boom is still visible. So many cranes on the skyline. 12 construction workers or more in line in front of me every day at the bodega for lunch. Thousands of new condominiums slated to come on line in the next few months. Much new street level retail space. A great deal of new office space opening up going up filling in the retail core urban density. All the while store fronts in the core are sitting empty papered over. Stores and restaurants are going out of business. Shutting down without even a sign on the door. One day it’s open for lunch. The next day it’s empty and dark. I served a notice of default on an icecream shop yesterday. Soon it’ll be another empty storefront. Safeco bought out. WaMu on the brink. Consumer confidence my ass. Dow Jones has the skuds. Your 401k is worth about a buck-fifty. Unemployment statistics are skewed. Unemployed people don’t answer on-line surveys or questions from researchers calling on land lines. Truly unemployed people don’t apply for unemployment and they don’t even exist in the eyes of the census bureau. It’s all a bunch of horseshit hocus pocus fat rich guys talking in hushed tones to rich fat guys wearing dark suits in wood-paneled conference rooms. Interest rates, government buyouts, investments, rescue plans, shifting the burden to the tax payers. Long term. Short term. Band aids hemorrhaging. Whatever.
Cyclically cycling into another cycle on my bicycle.
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