Rodleen Getsic
It was some while ago already when things were different. The ball bounces into courts new and abroad now as we encounter the closest experience to gether the gather all at once. I winced. Or, was it a wink? Ah. But family dies and is born again. The beachside stranglers keep on going as I stand here mesmerized by the constant flow that the world spins with. I could sing any key at any given moment if we just let me. At the encountering of this millennium's seventh year, there was a kiss from some unknown mystery of a soul. People pass through walls sometimes not because they are only figments, but because the wall is. Just die. That is what charly did on the course. He couldve made it, but he jumped back in to save some civilians. Thank god everyone else sur vived. Or did we? I saw the russman last night. "Why dont you just move?" asked one of the newscasters abruptly, echoing the words of San buena Ventura (a county cursing the holy name they have been given via discourse ockering horrific results which will ebb in more disaster). La Conchita. This is my life, my home. My children were born here. I moved here before the ranch started watering their avocado trees, saturating the hill behind my home. I have lived here before the county super sat in his playschool chair directing children, and now he stands pointing fingers of blame at our small village, professing that we are a 'burden'. The press prints the idea that what is happening here is a 'geological event'. Sobeit. Yet the geology is neogeology. Rincon. Punta Gorda. This precious hill of earth that I live in front of has been stable for thousands of years. Now, an ancient landslide has been reactivated by bad decisions linked to a company and a county. Ventura. Rincon Investment. Like a liar keeps building his story, in the end his story will not hold up. But in the meantime, my people are the butt of the story. Endangered. We have been buried alive, and heartless governmen only wave their arms around, breaking a leg, getting claps, and professing that they will save the state. Emergence. The state of the nation is crumbling from sea to whining see.
Two years ago today La Conchita was crushed by a land failure. One third of the community died, including small children and dogs. The town remains in danger, looking like a third-world country. The ranch is still watering daily. Even driving by on the 101, one can see the water pouring out of the side of the hill. www.LaConchita.net
Two years ago today La Conchita was crushed by a land failure. One third of the community died, including small children and dogs. The town remains in danger, looking like a third-world country. The ranch is still watering daily. Even driving by on the 101, one can see the water pouring out of the side of the hill. www.LaConchita.net
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