| I-95 Imperative
Wrap the bridges in gauze swab underpasses of crumbled cement in mesh metal. Pause as beams, trestles, and studs relent debris-chunks on car-top—bricolage of wailing and post-crash volant. Then the ten-wheelers—awful continuous, cacophonous lament whine of tar buckled with a hook in the eye of a driver on speed or whatever is meant to keep him awake. (heavens!) Gods of drivers, wives, and baffled dogs released to chaos (underpass emollient of thin netting, frail holdings, cordage of worn metal, stone slurry) hold us enfolded in this transport bewilderment. |