After Viewing John Maguire’s PaintingMontgomery Street in Winter by Arian Katsimbras Painting: Birch, brick, chimney stuck through apartment, fence, shed stamped with snow, creek, tendons of ice and ash, Studebaker out of frame (not running), sky. We say nothing driving from a garage sale somewhere between Reno and Donner. This water-gashed interstate, zippered on either side by pine, telephone poles, and gray, carnelian in places where rain meets oil and needles of autumn, drink in the silence, abandon this map, navigate by catalog of blues and cold, drive further into stale air and December, harder into 1996. But no, you were not there. We were not there. No stump of tree, no grass or sky, but bills, apartment, lamp, porcelain. You said nothing. I said non-photo blue when I should have said knuckle of bone, winter. 90 theMeadow
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