9.12.17





the digger pineguerilla pine weirdlyleering from above the retaining wall at the corner of the porn shop had reloaded

its pine cones went up its articulating branch like bullets slipped keenly into a magazine

well  not reloaded   its pine cones regenerated(wait until someone figures that one out for a high calibre weapon regenerated bullets nahtoo many ammo manufacturers  itd be squelched there was too much money to be made
the inventor would become a wellarmed wellmunitioned billionaire overnight)

he recognised too that other limbs had reloaded

maybe they took turns articulatinghurling pine cones  an maybe all the guerillas limbs were articulated an could direct an fling pine cones at once
                            he didnt knowhed only seen that little boy go down in the diners parking lot ahead of the old man who walked with a cane


he stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at the guerilla   he admired it

gently it nodded again

he was acknowledged

he returned the nod

he didnt think it was oddit didnt feel odd  he felt the tree had his back    


its pine cones were huge an handsomesome were green an tight like a bunched fist others were brown an scabrous
a type of pine cone that fragged as well as pummeled or deftly penetrated

the guerilla pine had a complete arsenal which was as obvious as it was inobvious

the inanimate was unsuspected

the inanimate couldnt draw attention to itself 
unless those like he who watchedwho had a fetishan appreciationwho animated the inanimate saw



if anyone had paid attention to him stoppedstanding on the sidewalk beside the main street saw him looking up the hill apparently at the ignominious porn shop(pluck out his offending eyes!)  they may have tried to follow his gaze  tried to determine what drew his eyepossessed him  then given up

a lot of townspeople or others passing through were aware of him  he read while he walked 

he drew their attention because they thought for sure hed walk into something trip over a broken sidewalk fall in the street off the older high curbs miss a light an walk into traffic

he frustrated them

from where they watched he seemed an automaton  oblivious yet somehow keenly aware

his trick wasnt a trick  it verged on perfection from decades of practise  if he had to walk by himself he read

then he upped the ante  he wore provocative tshirts which politically an socially opposed the rural communitys mainstreamas well its neighbouring communities 
it tickled him 

their intolerancethose who took exception to his selfexpression reminded him of that edifice he pitied  plainly they would have adored they should remember that facile clever 60s prod  Love It or Leave It

hicks rednecks racists ignoramuses were stuck

of course they would want you to leave

theyd get lost if they did




he finally decided to move on

he subtly nodded to the tree

it winked in return

he walked


not twenty metres down the sidewalk reading he crossed into the drive that led up into the diners parking lot

a huge white FORD pickup truck made a left crossing traffic to enter

it made like it wasnt going to stopthe driver laid on the hornthe vehicle still rolling

he didnt stop walkinghe was on the sidewalk

he had the rightofway

he was reading

the driver braked hardstopped
oncoming traffic stopped
through his open window the driver berated him foully at the top of his lungs
he still didnt look up out of his book
something whistled behind his head
THUDglass shattered an collapsed
the drivers screaming stopped
oncoming traffic began blowing their horns
still walking he finally looked up an back to his right
he saw what he calculated when he heard the whistlethe THUD
the FORDs windshield was smashed
pieces of a smashed green pine cone lay on its hoodin the street

he shook his head to his unspoke thought WHAT A CLUSTERFUCK  BROUGHT IT ON YOURSELF CLOWN

an turning so he walked backwards on the sidewalk he look up at the guerilla pineraised his hand in thanksin acknowledgement 

a different articulated limb bobbedit halted  then bobbed again


he heard police sirens



he didnt stophe didnt see a thing 

he was reading



1347,  Thursday – Pearl Harbor,  7  12. 17
1206,  Friday,  8  12. 17