Gold Fame Citrus by Claire Vaye Watkins

gold– The prospect of Mother Nature opening her legs and inviting Los Angeles back into her ripeness was, like the disks of water shimmering in the last foothill reservoirs patrolled by the National Guard, evaporating daily. –

– Motel art, and it made us wonder finally how we could have been so cavalier with photography, how we managed a scoff when warned that the cloaked box would swallow a part of the soul. –

– Still came the dune, rolling over the grasses like so many swaths of peachfuzz, the world’s most invasive species no species at all. –

– Maybe it’s easier to be last than found. At least there’s energy in lostness. Something to be done. –

– Everything was a little better in retreat. –

– His word was a photo negative of itself, a kind of heat vision except the world was all heat. –



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