That some people who are divided within themselves, against themselves, will turn on you to force you into a kind of slavery for some minutes, or hours, or days. Because they must, for they are divided against themselves.


That skyline or roof line of the massive apartment building, or the idea of it made of cardboard, that rides high above my own life in the evening. Lit by street lamps.


That I have come upon the bones or carcasses of coyotes and rabbits and mockingbirds or other birds and have seen the bloody opossum, half crushed and unable to rise, shaking and grimacing but trying to drag itself from the pavement where it has been run over in the evening, in its blood, it has described how death comes.


That the axles of the vehicles carrying a person or persons carried to a world destruction or to happiness.


That a vehicle or vehicles merged into traffic, some passed on ahead, while others stopped


That this world is the world of an Italian movie, the action filmed first and afterwards, all dialogue overdubbed.


That two day old coffee, drunk like that, cold.