Wednesday, May 28, 2003

Just a quickie 'fore I jump on the treadmill:

Today, coming back to CT over the Throg's Neck, a thunderstorm crossing over the Bronx, nothing in front of me but gray haze, the bridge's landing, tollbooths, the blastscape of the fifth borough lost in amorphous fog, my wagon and a thousand angry semis plunging forward into a swirl of the nothing at the bottom of the northward arc, speeding up, grinning, blowing airhorns and riding hard, thinking oblivion and hoping for fantasy.


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