Ray DiPalma | American Whistle

c r o s s X c o n n e c t

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a m e r i c a n w h i s t l e

--- R A Y D I P A L M A

Something left behind again and again Abandoned where it fell In a hallway near a straight-back chair A door locked to keep the side clear

The hardened pea vibrating against the chamber walls Its preferences radiate through the echoes Nothing has changed Every rhythm unique to the occasion