03 July, 2011


Merced, California: abandoned Riverstone housing development. From http://johnsville.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html

Growth used to be growth before it ate itself. The names do not matter— it never had roots. These are skeletal frames—the hammers stopped midswing—the crash. Plywood paneling bakes in the sun, garages gaping empty, septic tanks unburied, unpremeditated, backhoe toothmarks in the dirt unfinished rooms, unliving. No day is named. Striated clouds pass over. The wind scissors through the toothpick houses. Someone once hallucinated through the treated slats toward the murmuring, unfazed crickets whose reverie supercedes again. Nothing projects from human mouths. But the human is amplified here. A campfire ring—some older habitation—in the scrub south of the ruin. Permanence is vanity. But there is insecurity in the indefinite. It will last, but for how long? 

(From a prose poem in process)


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