novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- upon further scrutiny leaves do not turn in this pocket of the country. there are no reds in this spectrum. the other day i was sitting on the big brick bench, watching women in two hundred dollar silk suits sidle by in their payless slides. at my feet i noticed a single auburn leaf. i was amazed and awed until i picked it up and felt the polyester threads vibrate between my fingers. this let me down farther than you could ever imagine, and inside of that basement feeling there exists recall. the georgian fall i witnessed in one hour when i was nine, driving in a car down streets thickly lined with orange, burnt umber and gold. the autumn of my single year in kansas city, the way the leaves turned crisp and gray in the slush of the road. 2:20 pm - 10.23.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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