what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

pilderwasser unlimited T-shirts  pilder what? kickstand P know knew spew snap shots autoBIKEography RAGBRAI  slide shows phot-o-rama stationary-a-gogo 1/2 x 3/32 links

and then what happened?

June 28, 2017

when I used to sit around looking out the window wondering what to do in a cheap and affordable studio apartment on Capitol Hill riding my bike to work in 17 minutes and home from work in 21 minutes I carried a notebook and recent New Yorkers to write and read because I had nothing better to do as Seattle kind of came to a stand still where even construction projects halted and filled in the excavations and legal messengers had to buy more six packs to fill the gaps these are some words from those days  ca 2010 because they're all still true and now in retrospect I can't believe how much "free" time I used to have


I’ll find you near the intersection where expectations meet reality, but we’ll both need to wait in line for a while. Together. Separately. For complete instructions and rules of entry send SASE to PO Box 123. 

Do you feel that? That’s not a subwoofer. That is 442 cubic inches of displacement. Muscle. Original flavor long-cut between the cheek n gum. Liquid smoke in the eye a poke. As if meeting in the loading dock makes  sense. By design. 

If and only if. If then. If only. Migratory six-pack rings wrapped around your finger. An environmental impact statement stated in terms like simplicity, utility and out-of-pocket. Out on a limb like the kitten in the poster on the ceiling at the dentist. You’re huffing so much gas, the kitten begins to speak Spanish and you understand completely. 

Paperback reading walker. Walker reading paperback. I’m watching where you’re going, so you don’t have to. Warm shampoo. Cold Turkey. Fingerprints on the glass, compounded daily. Toothpaste splatter pattern on the mirror in normal distribution with standard deviation and occasional outliers. Fat-free vegan organic truck stop. Barstool etiquette. Free refills. 

Cauliflower party platter. Roundhouse. Circle to the left counterclockwise here as well as in the southern hemisphere. Losing steam. Solar powered artificial color. 67% majority. Authority. Ponytail pulled back so tight your eyes go funny. Purple mountain majesty. I’m invisible for my own safety. Please ignore me. I dress like this as not to be confused with an attorney. Conversation may be recorded for quality assurance purposes. 

They had me going. The entire package, the experience, the atmosphere, the ambiance, the greeting, the presentation, the valet, the hostess, the sommelier, the support staff, the music. They had me going there…but the smell.  The butt smell.  Who smells like doodie?  

Textured vegetable protein American cheese product. Dust-free laboratory. Fingerless glove snot rocket. Tyvek jacket crinkling from Seattle to Portland in one day. That which we call a rose is a Mercury Bobcat is a Ford Pinto is a rose is a rose is a rose. 

Terracotta façade undulating in the low angle winter sunlight. Getting all oboe. Oboe all up in your face. Peter and the wolf. Jack and the beanstalk.  Hootie and the blowfish. Puke on the pillowcase spring break. Direct pressure eye contact. Plug n play   they   we all look the same. Are you my Bucky? 

She rides around in the drops all day making us all look bad. We’re not in Marymoor anymore. We made the waiting list for the best preschool in Madrona. We got cold feet. Cold fingers. All ears. Captain Right Back Atcha coming out of retirement because he mixes it with love and makes the hurtin feel good. 

So firm you could set your beer on them.

She’s a brick house elaborating on an elaborate set of rules. Getting upset when no one else plays along because no one else knows or cares about the rules or the game or the fact that she is still keeping score on that scoreboard that no one else can see. Accurate and precise yet cold and indifferent. Overcooked and cranked up to Asperger’s level. Horizontal stripes stack up like binders full of courtesy copies to C-203. 

Quilted patchwork piecemeal. 650 front wheel. Campagnolo cranks BMX anodized fade to pink. Red turtleneck sweater February candy office party glazed high fructose corn syrup distraction delivered floral arrangement calling in sickly sweet. 

Individually wrapped. Intermittently rapt. Instinctively instinctual. Little fuzzy gerbil.  Lavish Broadway musical. 

and then what happened?  

Add Comment

made ya look said...


Posted June 28, 2017 08:20 PM | Reply to this comment

pilder replied to made ya look...

googled "feedback loop" and stumbled upon this feeding the feedback right back like Zeppelin II on cassette in the auto-reverse after-market deck installed in the Datsun B210 coming back around again and again. with new perspective on old words. I'm not an attorney but I know someone or two who is. not going to preschool in Madrona but I know someone who is.

Posted June 29, 2017 07:49 AM | Reply to this comment

. said...

A resource of mine we'll call her mom, because she is has a phrase of that would be a fun google like a Canada goose not to be confused with Canadian geese who are celebrating 150 years of nationhood soon poop 1-2lbs a day and that a flock can produce a ton of goose shit in a year also googled that the time spent on social media in a year could be filled with 20 books read cover to cover time is no longer on your side there is no gap it's hot pu to the next information source and vetting is an archeological dig. Reading one New Yorker a month cover to cover poems included is in the past man no time.

Posted June 30, 2017 08:32 AM | Reply to this comment

pilder replied to ....

in these days of "OK google, spoonfeed me all the answers" and "Alexa, what is a book?" I feel lucky to read one of the poems and scan the contents of the New Yorker before the next issue arrives. And then I go back several weeks and read the fiction. Just got around to this one from April, it's a keeper...http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/04/10/northeast-regional

Posted July 1, 2017 09:53 AM | Reply to this comment

Alistair. said...

I remember that "Airport way South" post like it was just a few weeks ago. Scary. I also remember listening to that morning edition piece on the reclassification of Aspergers. I just listened to it again, while listening to weekend edition in the background. Time flies, and it seems to be gathering speed. Scary.

Posted July 1, 2017 10:05 AM | Reply to this comment

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