Tuesday, July 05, 2016


"The Sears Roebuck House in Urbanna, Virginia," 2010

Every house I saw had them. An upright plane dividing
the world from an interior; threshold where entry, exit
are the only options left. One house hid windfall apples
behind its back; another led me to full-on pareidolia as
it made faces at parents trundling babies by, at an older
woman in an outfit color-coordinated to match her dog.
There are places behind places here. Drapes get jerked
back, leaving a window wide-eyed in surprise. I stand in
one screened doorway, straddle a worn metal sill—this
is the permeable membrane through which we open or
close, turn past into present. This is the reason I smile.

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