About the author | Autocento of the breakfast table

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

He was born on a few separate occasions	green traffic lights at night
There was the day of his conception a wintery affair saved for those involved	a TV in front of a dumpster
The day he wriggled forth from the dark tunnel of nothing his mother’s womb	surprise photo of you at Walgreen’s
The founding of his little city deep inside by the small builders alien as they were and still somehow intimately familiar	a pink dress in the alley behind your house
Like any city it had its ups and downs the fever of 1994 was especially devastating but they were a hardy folk not much given to flight	me buying a Reese’s peanut butter cup for a child [whose family couldn’t afford it] in front of me in line at Safeway
As all things must pass the little city began slowly to decay the old ones claimed the young had no respect for culture anymore	trees at night their skeletons revealed by a camera flash
They began to die off slowly more quickly than being born the end was coming closer	two earthworms on pavement after a rain
As the last breath was made the last accounts closed in the city	keys tacked to a sign in Buffalo Park
It was given over to other builders	man flipping a four-wheeler and walking it off