the ows and the pussycat
A couple of weeks ago Lily and I made a pilgrimage to the now defunct OWS encampment in Zucotti Park. It was obvious then that nothing was going to take root in that sterile environment. It was a busy and gritty little scene and not the kind of thing fat-cat Bloomberg likes to encourage (he also hates snow, makes his paws wet) so I’m not surprised to see it gone. A tree, yes (as long as it’s not a variety of female fruit) some wild grasses, as are permitted to grow on the highline, yes, but if it urinates and defecates, no. These people were terraforming. They’d have better luck on the Moon.