R. Fleck
Goin’ up the country

Streams of 70 MPH mechanical plankton seethe out from radio nurtured exhaust warmed (”...and the murk index rating today is a low lean keen 50...”) metal sargasso sea. Detroit. FoMoCo Roto Moto get down town.

“Yeah...the people there are all ready to shoot even tho they don’t know what for...”

Detroit—R. Crumb’s furnace fantasy—recedes into a smudge over I-75’s cornfield borders. But childhood flashes born of a vacation packed car bring ghosts of summers past all back home.