Image description: A large silo sits in between large trees and foliage. It is dusk, and the sky is pink, with lots of small clouds.
By William Huang
The streets are all the same
Perfectly finite
Receptive to your knowing stride
A quietly still object upon which
to project the light
You can guess the contours
and wish for its long life
or sluggish demise
Know this – You know this boring place
And wish this – I wish this
compass wasn’t rigged forward
That each new building and landscape
wasn’t fixed in its path
Always to the dusk
An ever faster fade away
to the West – to the dark
Image courtesy of William Huang
The reason Will Huang feels alienated is because he is an alien.