"Doors were left open in heaven again:
drafts wheeze, clouds wrap their ripped pages
around roofs and trees. Like wet flags, shutters
flap and fold. Even light is blown out of town,
its last angles caught in sopped
newspaper wings and billowing plastic -
all this in one American street."
 

                                     The Worlds in this World                                               

                                                  Laure-Anne Bosselaar