I'm using google maps street view to peek about the world as I do every once in a blue moon and end up checking the neighborhood I lived in between 1st and 8th grade. I'm clicking along and I spy something scrawled about 4 feet of the ground on a wall I used to walk past all the time (but probably haven't walled past in 30 years), I zoom in and lo and behold I read this:
“I leave my prints on all the
apples at the store near where I live, and
across the river. The
leaves collect your skin cells but
we will leave them behind.”
It's just so strange to find something like that there on a brick wall in a place I once knew so well. When I think of that corner I recall the poor little girl who lived on that block, she had a giant-sized barbie doll that she treasured so, and the old lady with the pistol in her clear plastic purse; it's an odd place for any sort of poetry.