David Whittemore's Two Hundred Fifty Pixels Wide : overpass

So this is where they stay: under the bridge shaded from the merciless day face to face with starvation and dead fish No, it is only their clothing: rent oxford long from the office, an ugly orange overcoat useless in this splitting heat Hanging from its peg with regard But it is only a concrete overpass and I am drawn here, appalled by my fascination to the footprints in the dust and the crumpled beer cans discarded friends And this sketch in chalk on the wall and the failing sunlight on the hanging overcoat is beautiful

I could live here watching the lives of the fish and listening to the music of tires above my head and enjoying endless stories of familiarity with others in oxfords This spot in the shaded dust could be my home