The once-upon-a-time of America.

Slabs and more slabs of weighty concrete sections of highway piled next to dry grass and corrugated metal walls of abandoned buildings, stores, houses, farms, factories, telephone poles, and baseball fields remote as my desire to be the first 11-year-old girl on a team of 12-year-old boys.

NJ LINE NORTHEAST CORRIDOR BY COOPER SY BLUMENTHAL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 68

Trenton NJ at 11.50pm dark, abstract fragments through gray

train windows of what was and now is post-mortem America.

Slabs and more slabs of weighty concrete sections of highway piled next 

to dry grass and corrugated metal walls of abandoned buildings, stores, 

houses, farms, factories, telephone poles, and baseball fields remote 

as my desire to be the first 11-year-old girl on a team of 12-year-old boys.

Behind rusted wire fences vermicular wood stadium seats are weapons.

Splintered sharp edges flay bare flesh under cotton short-shorts and 

halter tops the terminus quo of womanhood. My team is waiting 

in position on a diamon…