Quiet box on the edge of town
Noiseless box painted black
One big window framing nothing
Quiet as a painting
Inarticulate base-layer sky
Moss too green to be real
Flakes splattered haphazardly
Flurries and emptiness
The world has gone to shit
Back where we left it
Back where everything matters
There is one economy here
An economy of sound
of being here
-T. Weeks
Life Immense 