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78 pgs, Pavement Saw, 2007
When you live obsessed with roads, the way in is always elusive. A troupe moves, circuitous, without destination. Motion key to place. The most frightening part of freeway travel is entering the stream of cars. The movement overwhelming, distance impossible to gauge. Kneeling in the rest stop, the map uncreased, unwieldy. Knowing that moments from now, the sluggish car will force its way back in between the faster vehicles and make its pace. And pace is gain, and earning.
from "Old Dog