Poems

RANGE
'. . . the endless street, the street that stretches beyond the range of the eye' - Giedion, Space, Time and Architecture

Elmgrove Avenue disappears, not
in darkness or
mist - which, Lord knows, there's
plenty of in Providence - but simply
because in eight or ten blocks it
curves. Of course, if I
turn around, this end (my
end) of the street is
clear. On that corner over there,
Lovecraft was born in his
grandparents' house, long
gone, facing Angell.

                       Elmgrove's
no Bismarckstrasse, nothing
...