For Betty, Moon-Loved Machinist
Issue #59
Winter 1992-93
Above the roof, above the pine glade which lines the road to work, the moon stays. Your day's wood churns into powder, is binned in barrels on the back lot. Mornings, you walk past rows of empty barrels, rims of...
Purchase an archive subscription to see the rest of this article.
Purchase an archive subscription to see the rest of this article.