palo_verde birdmad in the middle of the exhaust stink of trains and city traffic and steelyard a stand of green spindly trees in bloom in the mid to late spring the yellow blossoms, sweet - but too heavy to refresh cloying like drowning in honey the way a fly might have been trapped in amber millions of years ago the capital street lined with pines and palms and shrubbery the smell of politics masked by the rosebushes outside the chambers, combining to form an almost addicting opiate of potential corruption 011226 ... reitoei thats my street 011226 what's it to you? who go blather from