Going to Town
David McAleavey

I like brambles already behind us, the thing we’re after coming into view.

Seven lanes of traffic came together, then unbraided. The signage was intricate, apt. Entering from the right, I moved left three lanes, took the third exit toward a flyway downtown.

Rehearsing making sense makes sense. Once you complete basic scuba, you can try a specialty, rescue diving for instance: solemn faces on the bank. On the subway, even nonchalance is studied, not that we need a course in how to care less.

Conversation’s never aimless, the sociologist told me, donning his habit, doffing his hat, donning and doffing along the freeway, whose margins provide what habitats they can, habitats where animals live among plants and then the huge mowers slice it down, so long as there is money to pay for that service.