Month: April 1996

Coming around the hill, on the Interstate at the Ridgecut, the city sweeps into view: the trees on the roadside edge are only partly blocking nighttime lights, only partly obscuring the upside-down skyscape of white streetlamps garnished with red and blue from signs and towers and the spray of light from cars in motion. To…

Is this some lingering embarrassment we hide from ourselves? “Without truth, there is no hope.” I mean to say — if anything can be right, then anything is right: and nothing is wrong. And my hopes, my dreams starving, dying, R.I.P. (as if there were peace when anything is true.) I say, if life is…