city_limits lycanthrope Old men and kids are playing chess in the park. And some geezer with a certain face blinks at another sure configuration of defeat from what could've been open-here and here and check mate? An australian waiter asks a couple engrossed in digestive cooing. Letting out after taking in- a gourmet reappraisal of boundries a kiss is not dessert unless it is followed by more courses than could be charted by the thousand magellans with their shopping carts. Rigged with mastheads. the maps are of course appropriated old library books. And they pass. A half cat-one millionth of a bear on some evolutionary scope- eating in a window and it's a moving painting waiting for some sort of catcher to neuter it to stillness. Of course the cat doesn't know it's waiting. Like another couple, two young men on their first date. Waiting for the phone to ring, or for someone to tell them everything, waiting for a hook. Silence. A joke is made. Such good lighting in here....everything is so bright. A girl at another table laughs. And it drives a homeless man outside mad! He just talks to himself as if he's scaring himself away and must desperately convince himself to stay. "A narrative in two words a narrative in two words- fuck you! sinister poop" Maybe i made that conversation up. But he's looking up at the skyscrapers for real, and i agree a person can't escape lust for all the skyscrapers- it just fell between them trying to crawl under- but the physics, based on research and trials.... keeps the hall of justice tight. And now i'm hearing a mom say to her kid, you're sharp as a marble. It's sharp if you throw it fast enough! says a lesbian police officer to a kid throwing a frisbee in a cramped park. Then "off with you lad" in a camp irish accent - i know she's a lesbian because she's thinking about her girlfriend and her daughter and i can see it - oh she's a mother alright. Okay, i made that last conversation up too, but shouldn't they all be completing each others sentences like in a musical, am only i hearing that? stop looking into the sun a woman says to her son, don't look into such bright things...you aren't a camera, you aren't a camera, and you'll go blind. Then you'll be just like them. ooh bright reflected glare. She points to a park where old men sit drunk. A teacher draws attention by walking by dishevelled and then forgetting what she meant to write down later she's looking blank. A kid with a basketball says..."teach me what fool" to his friends...gay colored lepers the lot of them. And they wrestle like the leaves only the leaves rustle because their grips are gone if they're here, if they're down a gutter drinking yesterday's headlines and weather. Carebears are on the corner, and they're offering to share and share and share all night. They look leaner and hungrier than they did on the cartoons but they're chipper all the same. That's what another loony says about the folks running by. Says...you don't use a condom to cure aids. And what are we gonna do after the nuclear war...you gonna write a poem? All the same, you're all the same. Even that seventeen year old lover i clearly see lost in the blue sky and unknowingly trying to fit it into the eyes of his current love. No one thinks he'll last. And indeed maybe he won't. Cuz that girl said something - and his eyes were all "if you need me - drag the river, the world is ending and i've played my part" - or "I'll love untill the I doesn't matter- who says it can't be unconditional la petit morte! la petite morte!" and so onto bolder things, asuicide like romeo's for instance. And something is built on that! The city is to him, all an overdone monument to his decision. He's shouldered aside in his thought by a man with a jaw like a pankration fighter, a face that isn't recognizeable anymore between the cauliflowered ears and the stare, what's with the stare. He owns a studio somewhere and he beats people up for a living. He'll teach others the same, but just enough, not as much as he knows cuz he's not a mayor, why the fuck should you be a warrior? A drive thru alter, ng's laundromat. And the smell of urine and pastries each vying for supremacy, always trading back and forth. On the ground, microcosm style, ants march into either dumbly, and then pull out when it's bad and push forward when it's good. And so if you get enough of them it almost looks like thrusting. one stops at the shadow of my foot? It can't see shadows? if it could, couldn't it see its anthill or hive or bivouac... what are they called? if it could, couldn't it pause, couldn't it shoulder as ripe a metaphysical burden as the crumb on its shoulder. Just a crumb from some larger bread, which is just a crumb. And then maybe it would stand and pay attention to one thing or be blank to it would find itself stuck a mile equidistance between food and water and it couldn't choose and it could cry standing still. And if it lost this faith in being, jeesh, the whole anthill might be lost, it might collapse. Well it's a lot to be reading into an ant. But there's certain things it can't see, so we have to see it for the little guy or girl or intersex insect. Would the ant ever believe it if someone told it...in ant scent signals of course, that the "trail" it was following was really my arm! It simply doesn't have the higher level dynamics. It doesn't know it's part of some network, it just scoots along like a neuron, part of something bigger than it can comprehend. History in a moment. Poor ant, understand, i'm not blaming it, it just goes about its needs and creates complexities and desires it can never understand by even its most simple movement. Should it become overly sensitive, should it attempt to see a scope clearly beyond it, it will probably be stifled, it will be swept on and crushed. But not before it is paralyzed, not before it slows down the necessary and the inevitable. It falls from my arm and a businessman steps on it. A woman says excuse me sir you've dropped your pen. "Well at least i haven't dropped my pants" "Are you okay sir?" "Yeah...sure i am...YES" imagine a giant yes spelled out in tiny nos. Or it seems the other way around. Awareness does. It moves through a city like currency, and it leaves me as soon as someone is there to take it, and to bring it the some throbbing core that is always necessarily wherever i am not. You know where i can find shelter an old woman asks....don't ask me maam, i'm just a city worker. But my friend should know, he's fancies himself a poet, and i point her on to the seventeen year old, working industriously away at being sad beyond industry or self. Being so selfish it feels as if he doesn't even matter, and being so extravagantly beautiful. 020425 ... phil decisive decision directing disillusion doubtlessly on the double, drawn devinely down drapes drawn directly deviled. Drawn down drawings drawn down drawings drawn down. Never knowing neither north nor never not knowing neither north not knowing neither. Handicapping however humble heather hallucinates has only originated oregon oreos orion eskimos electrons. Migraine meandering multiple moments membrane muscle moving meloncoly meanings mixed more meaningfuly? Sweet siren sounds suspended stauntly sending steamed strong shock straight surround steve's seventy safety socks suspended so steve stands structured sourfully so, getting gold grades gets great golf games galloping glued gaps gated. greased goat grating grounds governed 'gainst goats gruffing. 020425 ... Daria lesbian lesbians (sorry, I just wanted to look at some old blathers) 020426 ... Daria in disgust Ok, they wern't as funny as I thought they would be. 020426 ... phil how rude, here we are working out an artform that has taken quite possibly an entire lietime to master, and along comes a big wad of birdung from the heaven's to splatter across the screen 020426 ... Daria WHo the hell are you? 020430 ... andru235 i was feeling stimilytic a catalyst for wild times it turned out rather boring, though the cost of fun's much more than dimes where are the limits of these cities where are the edges of this town what am i doing in this village where there's none of my kind around 050310 ... mon uow austin? 050310 what's it to you? who go blather from