Do not look at the roses. They are a distraction, a colorful blur, as you accelerate under yellow, then red, signals. Look amongst the weeds, the disheveled, distasteful zip of floral disfunction that can be the barrier between those that travel north and those who prefer south.
All the best things are over-looked because they lack such formal amplitude, yet they buzz with oscillations, first this, then that, layer upon layer of dissonant fecundity. Step outside, move toward the river, cross three lanes, real casual, enter the barrier and pull exquisite earthiness from the soil. Do not cross against the signal. Clean. Eat.
There are thousands of Wild Garlic, Allium vineale, bulbs from roughly W12th Street up towards the 40s. Two hot spots: W13th-ish and W22nd-ish and West Side Highway. Be safe, thank me later.
Your words are a poem. (And better than many.)
ReplyDelete'formal amplitude, yet they buzz with oscillations, first this, then that, layer upon layer of dissonant fecundity.'
ReplyDeleteMy God, man, what have you been drinking? I want some!
Word up.
Thanks for the pointer. A tad concerned about exhaust residue- what do you think?
Sometimes, and one never knows when its gonna happen, I get excited about some words and it clicks with the idea.
ReplyDeleteI drove by these twice this week and was happy to get the light so to grab a quick shot. Then I spent the remaining lights going over whether or not the soil would be harmful.
My final guess- no. The soil is new, way post-leaded fuel, although it probably has other components of combustion and road salt. That said, eating wild garlic bulbs once a year should be no worse for you than a dip in the NYC drink.