Texans are urbanites. A different country viewpoint. An accent that is easily discerned; not southern. They die rather than diet.

Since last fall our alleyway has changed; five households. Three from death; two from moving out of Texas; returning to the saltwater states. Those were the gardeners. We exchanged harvests, staying away from topics of the day, unless it was weather.

friends along the shared driveways

They moved to safety, barely saying, in whisper: “I don’t know your politics, but we don’t feel safe anymore…no telling how far things will go.” They moved to a Saltwater State; not the surfless salt of the Gulf of Extinction (formerly known as a Gulf of Trump).

the alley in the internet: alley allies

in texas the power is uncertain. texans love their myths, independence and god a divine independence:they keep the grid away, thinking the clock is set to 1830 or 1964. 

texas power failures bring many together; checking to see if your power went out as well.

as in new york, snow bringing out impromptu push, direction, and help. The grid failures open the houses around us. People checking to see if they are the only one affected. They aren’t.

Texas is built on the fiction of Republic, of Monarchy. The first dictionary of the United States authors called a Sovereign, that thing with a Sovereign, a King or Queen. Dynastic Ruler. These days, we stuff words like trash bags, overloading them. Sovereign is now, what? — something with a boundary. Perhaps we have lost the concepts of democracy, replacing it with wealth metrics. Autonomous isn’ sovereign.

Texas Pride means we barely have interstate highways. Alongside runs a Texas highway. Texans shrink from thinking they’re American, preferring the Texas flag when Democrats are in the White House. Only with a Republican in Oval is the US Flag displayed without scorn and contempt.

People Die. Anonymous and Unknown. Their death makes their life standout — asking our attention; what didn’t we know about them. How much did we miss by being on paths of easy hand waves, idle talk. Let them resolve their life not as a King, not a Sovereign Life. Allow them to make their judgements without requiring them to answer my curiosity.

april in the alley
Eclipse in the alley and by September She is buried, her house is sold.
Grand children with a universal northern accent arrive; sort the closets, close the garage.

They “Remember the Alamo” even though they don’t want to be reminded of its History.

i’ve been in Texas so long this tomato seems good enough .