dip of the horizon j.d. schraffenberger Note the noise of the nosing in of bouncing balls across the street, or city buses fading uphill and train signals far away. Note the upturned garbage cans peculiar to this neighborhood roll, define by right of being, by want of sameness, by differentia and standing before the river. Listen to the cadence of metal communing, concise, with other metals; they elevate the eyes, we look, and so the greater is our depression, greater the lies. Horizons encompass; the depth closes round about me, elevate my eyes. I am a derision to all my people, my own name. And all the eyes in America, and all our dying keens could not have made this love peaceful. But still, you must believe it is peculiar; trust in variance and blindness, and the want of likeness will someday heal us.