Eeksy-Peeksy

augury doggerel

Monday, June 03, 2002

Noise

Last night, a gasoline generator and pneumatic jackhammer and powerful spotlights eliminated all light and sound around a hole cut down through the avenue, down into the earth, where they had sliced a piece from the cake.

Surrounded by a toy fence, in a yellow plastic safety jacket and yellow plastic helmet, illuminated and voiceless like an old movie star, a bewildered man dragged out of his bed at night stood up to his neck in Prussians and Mongols and Turks and Swedes and Prussians and Russians and Austrians and Germans and Russians and Americans. Down in the hole, the ground was the rust orange of sewerage broken open, of ceramic and iron and mud, of things burst and repaired and sealed over again and again.

By this morning, someone had piled soil and gravel and cobblestones back in and pressed asphalt over the hole and touched up the paint on another boundary across the surface of the earth.

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