Bless these barren gravel lots beside the ark-like condo monoliths on the riverside. Let them in my mind never be developed. For though the wetdreams of developers are erected on drownings, old place will never bear a trace of the whims of human valueings. The truth is this: emptiness persists indiscriminately. And from basements to churches to museums, all worship wastes in waiting for some sunken boat.
While all our shit and our gold live on the same riverbank, this side of oblivion.
"And this building used to be, this building used to be..." This town is a landmined landscaped of body memory. And like some useless tool paned against its vast gaping riddle, I walk by the movie theatre, I walk by the hospital incinerator. And with photograph’s poise nothing can exist for itself here. Drowning in the taste of snow, I will get no closer than this to the heart of this labyrinth.
And all my shit and all my gold is still heaped up on this riverbank, this side of oblivion.
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