chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

night sounds…

The trains are busy at night. Lying in bed, I can feel their vibrating rumble, their night poetry, even all these blocks away. Their warning horns blow a solo into the darkness, some hoarse and rude, heavy-handed, some lyrical. One, I discover, is Q, the Morse code dah dah dit dah audible from one end of the bay to the other. Q, it says, I’m the Q train. Coal train, quatrain, Coltrane, Q train…

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