3:33
notes to a long gone hat and the once proud concavity on which it rode Con/Jur/d, begun 7/12/2026 stopped dead on the cemetery road while the local crows cawed Apoet sent us a photo today reminded us of you, the dis comfortable p lace u sit in the overlapping time-pools washing against our now We left the house too late the motors were already at ROAR the church going cars the lawnmowers, this Sunday’s unplanned activity at the corner house, with the flash/flash firetruck ambulance, and waiting stretcher walking by before it filled on the way to wander between graves, old_big trees back then when you, stylishly outlined a skull keeping excess sun from the light_let_in jellied sockets, you didn't spend much time in cemeteries, only for rituals like the time at the Friday_night_dinner . your concavity had everyone swallow a bite of graveyard dirt_PEBBLES in honor of PAPA G after you'd found the abandoned tombstones, behind the condos on the hill overlooking Marin City/ Mill Valley where the G could be for Gede or Gangsta depending on which part of the forever_war the locals were fighting, . your mount, your crown height saddle, didn't spend much time in monument parks, then since SF had excised them, mostly clearing the dead (the Legion_of_honor skulduggery stories SHUDDER ) in anticipation of clearing the LIVING the time, before he wandered into display_case_kennels and fed your MERCURY madmomma money, wanted to be your horse, and you rode onto the same streets, the behatted hippies and poets beat their feet he was lost, a little forlorn too much SUN, a space not yet filled with sense relying on grace, HOW DANGEROUS! And he climbed up the hill following the interlocked bubbles of fairies/ferrys/fair very scandalous, half mad, looking for being finding only selling, on the hill off of HAIGHT, in the gutter words_names SPARKLED as empty as he was then, he still recognized crushed gravestones, fragments of mourning a re-lost city, noone plaque_unworthy remembers, remembers, remember? the dead, perfect place for the digital to take hold, ALL SURFACE what depth there was rotted, removed reliquaries relabeled as unknown ‘ritual’ objects you weren’t around then, different owner less considered and crafted felt the concave thought of function, not FORM or was it not form, WHEREVER! huh when you first took over weren’t your legs studying Ogun when they became your perambulator? THE SPIRIT OF MECHANISM AND BLOOD, THE KNIFE AND THE SACRIFICE Do you remember how pleased the the_absence_maintaining_your_form no that’s not it what do you call it ? steed? Don’t use CHAT GPT! we despair of what he and they become. Unable to DIFFERENTIATE SCIENCE and tool, forgetting the gods were here before the accretion of a SHELL thinking they were a pearl, discovering they were a miasma_stink_stunk_stank its the separation you see, they claim MIND/BODY from where you sit, obvious innit? STERILE/FECUND is how the moderns live stuck in this cycle thinking their machines are eternal, not the fertile loam from which they grow, ANYHOW, anyways wanted to tip you off, the world is brimming with possibilities, yet wealth, mis_aquired POWER are doing their best to occlude the_raw majesty/tragedy and if you don’t start training your horse now, he will never be able to compete, or walk away from the rigged steeple chase of this peculiar_contradiction of every_ING NOW.
Thank you for the invite Pretty Thunder and Rue Kream whose image this was originally. THE SKY IS YELLOW from Anthropocene wildfires in Canada and my knee has become deeply painful for reasons yet to be determined, but yet…
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 7/15/2026
