Sketch (11/20/19)

Like a boat in a river looking up at the shore: walking through the city, filled to the brim with John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone contained by the rib cage of piano chords, the eye-scratching LED light of televisions sharing the national narrative began to move slantwise into the cityscape. And it was a narrative that would be known, even in the rain — from those stopping to look all the way down to the pigeons punching holes in a full loaf of bread like they were working over a boxing bag in a gym.