Looking down at the city from a broken bedroom window, above an empty church with a pot-belly broiler on fire, heating the whole place up and beckoning soft tapestries to dance, seductively in the hallways

Jade colored lights strung above asphalt blink:
GO!

And we do, down abandoned streets, past broken window homes where red bricks stand wobbly with their seams unfastening

Industrial Cauldron Collapse
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Out beyond my perch in the tall sedge grass, where fresh water tickles the muddy flat, hundreds of mew and bonapart’s gulls rest, waiting for the flooding tide to replenish all that has been absorbed by the foraging of otters, eagles, mink, and grizzly bear. The tide will, of course, oblige, as it always does—this generous friend of the estuary system and coastal fringe. Slow but consistent, imperceptible yet always on the move. I can see it to the south, building against high shoals, oozing ... read more