City of Weeds

Entire generations wrecked by wretched Catholic mothers, Irish fathers, Jewish terror, American work ethic; warehouses erected like temples to labor and highways wrapped steel and cement around a borough whose bones are mean but marrow is kind; Brooklyn, a beauty that lingers in the backlight of that shining archipelago of urban America, where wild grows the tough grass and clover between cement sidewalk slabs cracked by storm surge and transparent histories; where wild grows the spirits of free people between those slabs of histories, which press, and level, and diminish returns.