Outside the Abandoned Packard Plant
By Erika Meitner
closed fifty-four years, the crickets are like summer, are like night
in a field, but it is daytime. It is August. There is no pastoral in sight — only
Albert Kahn’s stripped factory, acres of busted and trembling brick facade
so vast there must be thousands of crickets rubbing their wings
beneath makeshift thresholds of PVC piping tangled in ghetto palm saplings
growing through a deflated mattress top tossed over rusted industrial metal the shape
of an elephant dropped on its knees dispensing invisible passengers into
moats of rubble dappled with what? These crickets, their industrious wings
mimicking silence and song, lonely background, until one beat-up maroon
Buick flies down Concord, accelerating like the road just keeps going, like he’ll
actually get away with whatever he’s doing, then two white cop cars, Doppler sirens
shrieking and braiding, but it is peaceful other than that — you might think
you’re in the country as in not the city as in wilderness under the bridge that used to say
MOTOR CITY INDUSTRIAL PARK and now just punched out eyes and ARK Click here to see the New York Times Magazine feature. Erika Meitner's Copia is available at the BOA Bookstore.