WEEK 48 [mary camille beckman] 12/04/2011
The Anti-Season Sacramento, California And yet, all morning, I drove. I followed South River Road, thin highway, levee’s backbone. I obsessed: over the bridge, over again. An unreliable friend, sleep grabbed my wrist and twisted. Two men fished below, thick ankles stuck in the river’s gullet, emptying a styrofoam cooler, ploddingly, beer by beer. Impossible patience. Each empty can: tossed to the bank. Each caught fish: lobbed back into the cooler, softly, blood ribboning out of stilled gills. I take comfort in shallow things, thin lines and surfaces: breath, glass, shallow hood of tule fog, reckless sleep, shore. And also: the Sacramento River at rest, untroubled. I have been careless with time. I have been dangerous behind the wheel, sideswiping the bridge where it aches, where it scrambles to hook itself to the road’s rough shoulder. Mary Camille Beckman, Ann Arbor, MI CommentsMichael Havens 12/26/2011 7:26pm
Wonderful merging of the images to experiences. And nice cadence. Leave a Reply | archivesJanuary 2012 The work presented here is the sole property of the contributing artist unless otherwise noted. Contributions to the 52 Project may not be reproduced, copied, manipulated, or used whole or in part of a derivative work, without written permission. All rights reserved.
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