Alice, I wish you a factory.
♥ Lucas
I wish you a
factory for all
of the same
reasons I
wish the ex
who stole all
of the rest of
my clothes (ex-
cept what I am
presently wearing)
peace. The news-
paper clippings my
grandmother col-
lected and carefully
arranged into a sort
of funerary scrap-
book had no sticker
price, of course.
Upon the clippings
were photos of men
who were killed
during the second
world war. The
whole set was
enclosed nearly
airtight in a large
ziplock bag. By
now, perhaps,
the fragile yel-
low clippings
which hung
onto the fragile
black pages of
the antique note-
book have been
blown into hun-
dreds of pieces
and flutter like
autumn leaves
over the crooked
streets of my city –
a city that knows
neither autumn
nor winter.
