PIVOT POINTS | Laura-Gray
Street
Disposable Goods
Dusk meanders the creek, tingeing, tonguing
the thick flow where it pools along a clog
of bottles, a carburetor sunk in weed muck.
My stick weaves an oily web that breaks
and clings to phosphate foam, then fades
like a ring dropped through this sewage crust
without a glint. What could blink in that
obsidian filth if not the refuse of love?
No minnow sift; no change of heart.
Just another thing thrown away.
Spring that silts forever, dead as
the spit-in
eye of a dead fish: there's a hole in this choked
throat, like a well deep enough for clear
water
—but no winding down, no rope. ![](../../../../images/bug.gif)
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Commentary
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Potters'
Field
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Disposable
Goods
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Materiales
Desechables
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