Knox had been hanging around 8th street since before they put in the ATMs. We didn't know where he lived, but that's where he'd been ever since I'd moved here about ten years ago. He used a cracked ... [+]
The promise of safety
Retreats before the distraction, impatience, the rage
Of my neighbor; who on the street would wish me well,
Then behind his car's tinted glass,
Succumbs to a darkness he does not understand.