Wednesday

corridor

notes:

leaning and wheezing number one bus:

sound of brooklyn dawn

two days ago i followed route 26 and watched the earth open up. warm springs. pavement on an ancient trail, a reservation. basketball in the shade of a cliff, white crosses and flowers on yellow earth, a low fence on a massive incline. we own this. rocks. horizon tumbling into clouds, disappearing.


blinking and rolling route 26