the language of keys in the lock,   an abrupt shutting signaling the adult force   he opens a cabinet, the refrigerator mumbles a few words   shuts the cellar door then moves with a slow steady gait, heavy and sure   hands sliding over the walls by habit   his shadow on the hallway … More HE WAS HOME

Lowell, Massachusetts, 1937

Industry.  Merrimack River. Red brick factories.  Wallpaper sweat. Stained hats.  Greasy fingers. Oiled boots.  Gloves soaked in time. Mixed aromas.  Twelve hour shifts. Five minute breaks.  Bag lunches. Overalls with snaps.  Tattoos with faces.  Eyes glasses smeared.  Black acne spots.  Machines crunching. Narrow walkways.  Wooden floors. Noise upon noise.  Laboring fans. Glass transoms.  Metal chips.  … More Lowell, Massachusetts, 1937


FROM UP HERE     Shadows run charcoal, flat like iron painted across walls as it spills silently onto a fallowed field suffering from a lack of love.   A blood sun spreads rivers over streets and sides of tired brick buildings.   An emotional wind creates sounds resembling words whispered through fences and back … More FROM UP HERE


Determined eyes. Chiseled granite. Men full of strength. Sycamore trees with arms; skin of mules and rigid steeled hands. Their youth bottle necked with fights and chain link fence. Clapboard shacks leaned with time. Clothes were coal smoke soaked. Dust was the life of everything. It was a place of bold brassy men with beer … More THE OTHER SIDE


The factory.  River water pushes in electric out.  Stoic faces, busy hands, leaning forward, tools clanking, assembly lines organizing, textiles, metals, lathes and labor, pallets and wire. Row houses, red brick, open windows, curtains lipping the corners, pipes with steam, chimneys black belching, parking lots and fences, green service doors, fans spinning, workers in overalls, … More MILL TOWN