Street Cuts: Splices from Project Notebooks and Other Indelible Impressions

Abstract

A bottle rolls, its gritty, peripatetic screech stopping only when it becomes marooned on the cement base of a lamppost. An intimate of the street, the bottle knowingly points across the empty parking lot to the square of dirt on the other side where, underneath a tree, the daily card game takes its usual languid course. The tall man sitting on a plastic milk carton holder scratches his head and rubs his suspenders with his thumbs, possibly thinking about his next move, or just thinking about what somebody said. The card players pay little attention to the Dutchman mobile home parked in the lot with "Neighborhood Mobile Action Project (sponsored by the U.S. Public Health Service)" imprinted in nondescript letters on the side.