The Country Diary Of A Subway Conductor - Silver Jews

«O get him out of there!"What if it cost 25c to wake up in the morning?

A dollar, ten dollars?

I’d pay it all the way to the poor house.

It’s not made if it’s made in Roanoke

Night pulling up in front of the house like a bus.

It came at me with shears

Her sweater had faces, famous faces knitted all over it

The porch swing ticked off Central Daylight time

«How many hours do you think it’ll take me to smoke this cigarette?

«she said with a smile

The smell of fried food came drifting out one of the castle windows

«Lets go around back"I said «my brother buried some stuff back there»

We ducked down and walked through The black bushes

My shoe made a sucking sound in the turf

«He can afford anything"I said «he's got dogs that blow on trumpets.""Priests!

«she cussed

Thunder cracks over Ben Franklin’s shop

Who wrapped my dreams in a blanket and led them outside to the black book in

the yard?

«Hey what Indian tribe occupied Southern California?

They were a lucky bunch of

fellers!»

Sting Bible, More Sea Bible, Knur and Spell

In moments downhill, towards sleep in the stillwater shop

Imagining places I was almost sure I’d never been and had taken to assuming

were the memories of my grandfather somehow deposited in my mind

They were there and gone, just before I could get my bearings, catch any names

or find out where the hotel was

Just a pile of glass shavings that could never be reassembled into the gone

order of buildings and the shade pouring off of them

«WATER!»