For Timon (2021-22)

The arrows of Apollo have been flying for eighteen months.
No sun was seen last September in San Francisco.
In Rio, a river of tears has surpassed the Amazon.
In India, Shiva’s mother can’t buy enough oxygen.

Brother is bleeding after arrest.
Sister is spat on for her eyes.
We all awoke, but from different dreams.
White male promises, taken too seriously.

Student slaves battle in empty arenas.
Everyone keeps taking strikes.
There are no base hits now,
Only homers and outs.

Who didn’t cry in the shower some days?
Who wasn’t tightly circumspected?
What father didn’t regret his sires?
What’s with all the languishing?

Say goodbye to the elderly.
Subordinate the orderly.
Suborn the perjurer.
Misrule ruffshods!

A school board is treated like children.
A nightly sicko enrages the sad.
The democracy is too worried.
The republic, too mad.

Are these the days of diminishing?
Have we reached peak oil?
Or is the future sideways?
Is our story a spiral?

My fatigues have burned out.
We never signed up for this war.
Our neutrality is no longer respected.
So just let the science lead the way!

Grand Opening vol. 2

Another afternoon of documenting the new street restaurants of San Francisco. This time in La Lengua and Noe Valley, along Mission and 24th. Some themes emerging: motorcycles, geometric art, transparent plastic, empty tables.

Grand Opening

I’m documenting the blooming of outdoor dining parklets in San Francisco. These photos are of the structures and details themselves as much as possible, rather than people or food. I want to capture rapid change in the built environment and the freshness of these signs of life, near the end of the pandemic. 15 favorite images from a spring Saturday on Courtland, Mission, 24th St and Valencia streets.

Roots Maneuvers

I took a picture of our neighbor’s fence where a vine used to grow. Then I fucked with it in Apple Preview. Lyrics by Indigo Girls. There’s also some Jackson Pollack in there.