— 23:45:03 — A QUARTER TO MIDNIGHT Deep in Kentucky, behind twelve percent of the world’s chain links, past snipers’ sights and paperwork bundled into granite-lined, torch-resistant, blear impenetrability, a vault of gold! I bet it’s empty, says my mother, channel- surfing extremely slowly. She
Ever Wish You Were Famous? I knew a man who made money as a silhouette. That outline standing upstream, brilliantly backlit by morning, that was him. The famous photo. Chin to the north. They’ve got a museum now somewhere, and people signing the visitor’s book.