Find me near the warehouses over the bridge
iron, wood, and elephant heads
another day in the neighborhood

There’s no affixed theme or subject, and probably no story to tell. It’s like a found object, on the street, like a flowering elephant head or shards of glass that might resemble the Virgin Mary or your Aunt Edna. Like a run-on sentence. There’s a lot of that here.

We are somewhere in New York, probably, working and making a living. We’re watching objects fly by us, eating tacos and drinking lots of beer.