• Eli Hayes


    Emptiness, and metal and stone, infused with dusty, fragile, ancient faces, shielding the flow of blood that so ceaselessly moves forward, ever so forward, so backward, so forward; and the streets continue and twist, and the blood becomes a grid, and the grid expands; and with these faces come homes, and far away from these homes comes partially obstructed news, news of emptiness, infused with dusty, fragile, novel life.

    [captured NYC with such mystical, melancholic audiovisual poetry; touched me deeply…