Tuesday, June 7, 2016


I have not yet stopped at Catersville,
because there's no stop there. Everything
around that bend just disappeared. I can't
remember saying what  -  the morning was
fair, that I recall. A few guys were cutting
trees  -  the usual Mexican chap-hounds, with
grinny smiles and a loud saw or two. Making
voracious noise to supplement their death and
destruction. Minimum-wage murderers, 
or at least I hope. 
I then entered the Canarsie line, for lack of
anything better to do. This way that, and that
way this  -  boy was I confused. Some 
pick-axe eating pizza on the bench.

No comments: