The WaterFire was a success, we, I, the volunteers,
all these folks solemnly stoked wood-fed fires in iron
baskets down the middle of the Woonsahocket or
Mahhasasuck rivers. I'm fucking those names up. We
were clad in black like assassins, while throngs of
bright-attired 50 year olds plumed the newly minted
streets…. ‘The only problem, I called the number, they
couldn't tell me proper directions from Boston… and all
the right turn lanes here are different!'
Ugh why do I right such journalistic hogwash.
Where is the edification! Where is the feeling?
awoken from a slumberless night at 10:15 am by
my chattering housemates.
From then it was the TV, and the World Trade
Center buildings smoldering
images, then to the streets, where scattered
groups of people, workers,
streamed away from Manhattan-bound subway
air had people wheezing and covering their mouths
as they took quick steps
down the sidewalk. People were talking,
wondering, trying to get home
to watch the news or...