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.