Disappeared in 1946

June 9, 2012


You’re Holding The Wrong End Of The Stick

Incriminating evidence. Leading back to some fundamental questions. On a cliff. In an inlet. In the year 322. B.C. Greek sea salt in your face. What the fuck is this all about?

I took a trip to New York. In my imagination. Set in Detroit. All those black faces on the buses accusing me of being white. I wish I could shed this skin. And step into 2057. Where heaven has been found. In a closet with Woody Allen. And his collection of abandoned school yards.

No one steps into a closet. And closes the door behind them. Except for my uncle Leonard. Who disappeared in 1946. Leaving behind his wife and five kids. All boys. Who all became successful brokers. In the Twin Towers.

And stepped into their own closet. Where all you could smell was drywall. And someone screaming, ‘they are chewing at my ankles’.

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