Driving out to the edge of town to get a replacement door for our car. Junkyard stretching for miles. Narrow path between. Silence. Then i start to notice all the burnt out hulks. All alike. All the same model as our Pinto. It's like some demon had been dispatched to blow them all up.
fx⚫️.
"Eatable as a cheek
Ending
To seem immense
Public and simplicity
Only as a cheek
At an eatable pilot-house
Like a bush
An impromptu connecting-rod
Only and polished
Polished as a mile
Remaining
Hearing
More whole than a stone
Whiter than a desire
Bent
More anxious than science
More generous than darkness
To end"
--Robot X, 1775
🌃The city is gradually falling asleep.
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