Thursday, January 31, 2013

Street Scene, 3:10 P.M.

The dark-haired man with the welding arc is making a black grille. His face is inscrutable behind dark goggles. Yellow sparks shoot across the sidewalk, like angry fireflies, as salsa music blasts from a radio near his feet. Behind him, the shop doors stand open. Inside is a miscellany of iron railings, mirrors with metallic frames, architectural details and convoluted gates and gratings. By the door, a rusty metal "tin" man, made of discarded metal parts, stands guard, like an Oz refugee, like a seven-foot, junkyard god.

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