we used to hang
under the bridge
on summer nights
six packs and reefer
nobody to bother us
but an occasional train
nothin’ else to do in town
an’ better than stayin’ home
nothin’ to gain, nothin’ to lose
I guess those were the days
these days now are different
though this place ain’t changed
I come down here to walk the dog
and get out of the house a while
never think about those days
or these days much either
don’t see no point in it
‘tsall the same now
life just goes on
such a strange array
of goosenecks and elbows
so orderly as to appear
ornamental, though
presumably
purely
pragmatic
possessed of
that particular
brand of beauty
arising at the
confluence of form
that serves function and
being brought about by care
I found the entrance to this alley
on the level of the main drag
on a previous visit, months ago
it did not look inviting
I did not enter
the light at the top of the steps
shines down from where I stood
stumbling upon this same place
with a line of sight to the sky
from the lower level
of the service road
out back
it turns out to be
as inviting as it is
strewn with debris
multi-colored brickwork
and even the arrangement
of all these spare tires
evoke an aesthetic
that is somehow alive
evince the personality
of a genius loci
I wander through
humbled by the beauty
in such an unexpected guise
who is Bijana?
with diacritic halo
must be an angel
what on earth is an angel
doing on this “coal patrol”?
an ancient sign
a symbol and symptom
of a time long since gone by
days of enterprise and success
obscured by the purely pragmatic
hvac appliances and power distribution
successfully covered by enterprising vines
no one made this scene on purpose
and yet, by the way they were
just being in the world
vines climbing
workers working
time just passing by
there is a certain purity
just waiting to be noticed
by some lucky fool foraging
for photos out back in the alley
well – would you just look at this?
who’d a thunk I’d stumble onto this?
this scene changes every day, no doubt
I’d wager the trash is a recent addition
and those leaves are not long brown
on this day, in this light, I’m glad
I found it just the way it is here
and I wonder how it looks
in the middle of summer…
I may have to go back
just to have a look
through a lens
how threadbare this robe
rendered soft by hard weather
graceful in despair
still adorning this corner
long past needing protection
enterprising vines
complex not complicated
paint is too simple
folk semiotics
in underground mark making
can you read the signs?
with a corner angle that’s just not right
this Irish inn looks like it’s leaning
lost in the Alleghenies, waiting
for better times and fresher paint
maybe even a revitalized downtown
train traffic isn’t what it used to be
and the kids all want to leave
as soon as they have the chance
and it’s hard to argue with them
there’s not much happening here
which is why I always love to visit