dog attack

Nance and Cocoa were attacked by a pit bull this afternoon, owned by a group a what looks like semi-gang types - the dog has a few scrapes, Nance is upset and a bit shaken, but fine. A family from Portland were driving down the street and saw the whole thing, stopped to help her and chased the dog off, yelling at the "owner" (or someone from the house where the dog came from) - your dog just attacked this lady, and you're responsible - the guy yelled back "The fuck i am!" ..... the Lane County animal authority went to visit the house while Nance and i (and the mutt) were at the vets, but no one was home (well, no one answered the door). The Animal authority left a stern note and wanted the dog's license number .... but i am certain the dog was just visiting ..... and is long gone.

We took the dog to the emergency vet, and she has a scratch on her nose - but nothing else visible. The vet gave her some antibiotics, just in case there were any puncture wounds that she didn't find when she examined the dog .... so it's wait and see ...


todays poem was accepted (2:98) and printed (but i never got a copy) in another small press First Class. written 9:97. as usual - if you can, please help support small presses.


MY HOME TOWN

wind (NNE) hard off the river
smelling of sulfur
-manure plant has documentation
they are non polluters.
***
kid in his Air Jordan's
(open game for the less fortunate or
more powerful) fills out half an application
leaves empty the parts he can't read
believing it an invasion of his privacy.
***
3 in the morning
asphalt is stained with rain
& blood. black hooker cries
for help (or deliverance). the age of reason
dead. on-lookers
filled with far worse diseases.
***
the home town team
rallied late for a miracle finish.
heroes. champions.
but fuck the fag at the mission
handing out needles
& condoms - though the editor
didn't put it in quite those terms.

good news and the Bad News

Well, it's been an interesting week. 

One - i have been officially certified as a shipper this past week. while i am technically still part of the paper machine, i do not work on the paper machine unless there is a break-down or scheduled maintenance and shipping is not operating. And that means i get shipping rate (which is .75 more than i was getting on the paper machine as a 5th hand) - which is cool, since i am on vacation this week. 

well, that's the good news stuff ... now onto the reality grim stuff .... 

two - the IP gods decided the economy sucks enough to not only close one more paper machine (in Virginia), but to close almost all their paper machines for 8 days starting next week. Another round of 8 day closures in Dec, and most likely again February. But unlike Weyco, when they stopped machines from operating due to the economy, they did repairs on the machines, education and so the workers never got laid off. Nope, IP is hurting so bad for cash, they are laying every hourly employee (with the exception of 5 needed to operate the boiler and keep it from exploding) for 8 days, and so i not only get a vacation, i get a lay off on top of it .... trying to be a believer in the goodness and deep insight that great companies hold and this is all just their way of making certain familiar are together for the holidays - (NOT) - i get an uneasy feeling that this could be the beginning of the end of the IP colonization (or is it just expansion) of the Kraft Liner world.  let's hope i am direly wrong in that feeling ...

onto the poetry - 

6:93 is the source date of today’s poem ... 

THE COUGHING WIND

the coughing wind i hold in my pocket offers no wisdom

but i tell it secrets

we share with the grotesque.

stumble over concrete mountains in the insatiable pursuit

of a happiness that has ceased to exist.

the coughing wind i hold in my pocket knows there is no freedom

only boundaries

we stretch ever so carefully.

erect palaces of sand

upon concrete being dismantled a molecule at a time.

the coughing wind & i, like an apparition in the fog,

dance in the haze

almost real enough to believe.