December 2010
7 posts
writing myself to sleep
everyone should be in bed right now. leaving the institute, i was greeted by a street sweeper. its bulky rectangular body shaking along congress street, its low brushes spinning, creating tiny tornadoes of dirt and dead leaves, swerving around mis-parked cars, it bumbled along, top to bottom. a robot with a sleepy driver. loud, it echoed against the tall brick buildings, sounding like an air raid...
