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even by the common, after hours of escape. The sidewalk is not mine. I have no memory here. There is not a single face that has a name. Blankness of not knowing, refreshes me; as rain drops spatter night-dark concrete ever blacker, and unfamiliar voices pour their stories like pestilence and poison into my eager ear, a great vomiting clamor of calamities large and small, all that might befall a soul who has not enough; luck, or money, or faith, or will to live without injury or injuring, in a game so badly rigged. Listening then I am both part and apart of all their grief, bad luck, poor choices. Allegiant, this journey churns us in the froth and foam of a new invisible organ, central as the liver, containing all the coarseness of these miles, the fingers yellow and split,

pEcotone 2013q

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the butts of cigarettes mined for something smoke-able, the rare morsel of food, the screaming mothers, the weeping children, all there residing, immortal窶馬o, but unnaturally long-lived, such is the work of my journey. So that even now those things press close, and 16 years space is nothing.

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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