Sunday, October 12, 2008

Green half-moons of lime repeatedly stabbed with a kitchen knife and left to sink down, the citrus oils rising in long smoky coils through the clearer tonic.

"All this time looking for love and you want to find peace but you find me."

Dusty blue sunlight cut by the park's yellow trees. The clatter of the bus' poles swinging free of the trolley-wires, the resigned-looking driver donning orange safety vest and gloves to fish the poles back up onto the wires. Brief spark-shower.

The Chinese pentecostal church letting out, little constellations of middle-aged folks in Sunday dress clutching bibles and flapping paper handouts.

Clark Drive's warehouses and sidewalks empty in the sun.

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