SUBJECT>Re: The Noise It Makes/Leaves POSTER>Yoly EMAIL>yoly_c@yahoo.com DATE>1107994846 IP_ADDRESS>cache-dtc-ac04.proxy.aol.com PASSWORD>aaiEZds5BDMEY PREVIOUS>83267 NEXT> 83305 IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

Good start, good middle, good finish.
Nice-even narrative. Enjoyed.

Peace,
Yoly

: It starts in the lot of the Super K between a
: green Caravan
: and a dirty white Jeep. A spilled cup of
: Spankee’s coffee darkens
: the asphalt. The lid cartwheels, ending its
: journey stuck in the weeds
: by the edge of Wendover Ave with flyers for
: missing dogs,
: missing kids, candy wrappers so faded the brand
: is white. Eventually,

: the coffee lid yellows then browns. The weeds,
: a mix of rye grass,
: thistle and crown vetch, don’t seem to mind.
: When their growth
: starts to bother the vision of drivers, a young
: guy
: with several missing teeth and a gray CAT cap
: comes to cut them
: as quickly as he can. He has things to do.
: Time, after all, is money.

: Finished, he stops at the quickshop for smokes.
: As he walks out he thinks
: about the coffee lid in the weeds he mowed that
: morning early
: before the heat became intolerable, how it
: clung to the damp blades
: of grass, how the other blade whacked it hard,
: making a noise
: no one could hear above the manic thrum of
: everblooming traffic.