Atlanta Gymnopédie
Oh the glare of apartment blocks on a day when the truck will not retrieve these bags of recycling. The truck already came! We did what we could to stuff its hydraulic shudder back into our dreams, which kept starting over without reaching the natural end of whatever they meant to show. And now this cereal bowl. How to clean—how to eat from it? I'd be a rich man if I could seize the molecules that skate my eyes in this infected light.
