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.  

Commentary	Potters' Field		Disposable Goods		Materiales  Desechables