I notice the break of customary service. It was obviously more convenient, but full plates should come from the right; empty, the left.
it was built closed and not meant to open.
i recently lost a poem about the process of losing my grandmother. the slow tidal gravity that drew me away from her had me scrambling to identify memories of no fixed address. ironically the faded forms i could postmark were scribbled on brightly hued post-its; colour coded culture schemes with names like rio de janeiro, […]