My friend Tom and I are biking the Overseas Highway from Key Largo to Key West and back—two and a half days, 220 miles of pedalling from island to island. The Seven Mile Bridge between Knight’s Key and Little Duck . . .
In the sharp tundral air
at the edge of a lamp-lit lot, the history of a dog scrambles
after the history of a wolf
five feet from the side of the road.
We are surrounded by the history of things . . .
I draped the dishrag on the tap, noticing how wrong the wrinkled plaid of the cloth looked against the brushed chrome of the faucet. Like the too-bright eyes in Rembrandt’s late portraits. Then I used some Vim, squirting the pale . . .
Invalidenfriedhof
Berlin, Germany
December 16, 2009
“Writers in cemeteries around the world? That book already exists. Cees Nooteboom wrote it.” I remember turning very red on that day in early 2009 when my colleague at Deutschlandradio Kultur spoke those words. . . .