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I

came from the Quanshipauge country, where cold granite slumbers hard under clay, and the acres of winesaps turn on their crowns under the insistence of so many machines. I came from that country of one thousand grays, unyielding and yearning for green. Long roads, the Greyhound bus, and I sit petrifying in my place, passing the hours. Barren swamp wastes of Pautuxet, leafless fingers flickering black and white the tones of her well-worn winter garment donned deep into May, I saw Quinnipac too, the steely glow of daybreak on her dark waters, gushing at her mouth as a

saw. Susquehanna sunset, vivid hues staining bright each braided chain, the painted current coursing under the latticework of arches in stone and Pittsburgh steel, like a dream it met me as that first day bowed beneath the Alleghenies. Emptied out on strange pavement, alienated

pEcotone 2013q

scream into the sea. Onward the wheels wound me deep into the high-walled canyons of commerce, the concrete yawning over me, and to myself my own body becoming smaller in the shadow of these walls. Buried in its bowels, convoluting in the smoke and soot, tangles of guts and great ganglions give it life, this too I

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Ecotone 2013 Body & Environment  

The journal of the University of Oregon Environmental Studies Program

Ecotone 2013 Body & Environment  

The journal of the University of Oregon Environmental Studies Program

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