Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Monday, May 4, 2015
Sunday, May 3, 2015
On Wall St, They Kiss in the Banks
A coolness, almost indistinguishable from moisture passed from the polished stone through my shirt, spread down from the windows, the massive grid of mirrors where the clouds, marshals of a great disappearance, played in their parallel recreation.
On Wall St, they kiss in the banks. You can learn a lot standing in one place.
The twins, bald, only bowl in glass vestibules. Most mornings the shards lay on the sidewalks outside the vest pocket banks on Maiden Lane, Broad Street, Williams Street, Trinity Place, Rector Street and Exchange Place.
The man turned, sharing a small pink mole. It peered through a mix of whispy white hair over the sharp line of his starched white collar. As the man reached for the rail, the collar rose then settled back below the mole, so it rested right on the collar's edge, tender and pliable.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Carefree Food Service Film 18" x 2000"
It's too cold to eat outside, so people eat in the Winter Garden.
The floors are made of polished marble with a grain so intricate, it recalls the glass slides loaded with specimen cells we marveled at in Biology.
Among the trees in the Winter Garden live a trio of sparrows.
Each time a crumb drops, the sparrows fall from their perches and glide down toward their morsel, but as they touch down they skate several centimeters in the wrong direction, the floors are so smooth. They then quickly hop six or seven steps to regain their meal, pick quickly and are off again to their next.
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