Jessica Pratt was playing in the background

cunning whispers 
cusping in crisped corners 
he smells the page 
the graphite grains on his nose

we listen lipped in 
                   to the funnel 
                   to the wind noise
                   to the house that arcs 
                                         and forms its back on the city street 

about a boy who wanted community
who was eager to fit in but was lofty
the upper side of town. Broad shoulders getting in the way of everyone. 
Jessica Pratt was playing in the background. 

"From The New York Public Library,"


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