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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 13, Number 2, June 2019

Mark Harris
Princeton, New Jersey, USA


The mud-streaked figure emerging from the leafy verge isn’t a Swamp Thing, or any sort of monster, but a man collecting junk near the New Jersey Turnpike. Behind him is oily water broken by old plantings, and then the broad salt marsh of the Meadowlands, what people used to call wasteland. He struggles up to the roadside carrying a hubcap and hangs it on a shopping cart woven through with wire of many colors. His shoes won’t close over his feet. His skin is bark and cracked earth. His eyes are free. By spring he may be changed beyond recognition.

exit by exit
everything’s receding but
the harvest moon



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