Marston Lake / 4803 S Wadsworth Blvd, Denver

Click for map: Marston Lake / 4803 S Wadsworth Blvd, Denver / lat 39.63198039218749 lon -105.08162836554001

Call 720-845-5413 extension 32 to hear this dream.

Something has gone wrong here, but no one can figure out what has gone wrong. All day & all night, people drive to this spot & fall to their knees & weep, or they get out of their cars & stand at their full height & scream, or they silently shake their heads with resignation, or they just find themselves staring silently around, brows furrowed, lips tight, eyes tracing every line of the street & every rock in the reservoir’s banks & every bird that swoops by, desperately seeking the thing that has gone wrong, seeking out the nature of the wrong, seeking out the nature of wrongness, seeking to pinpoint the spot where the wrong began so that it could be repaired, so that they can right the wrong & never have to think about wrongness again. You look & look & look, at every weed & thistle & every nearby condo & brick wall, every link of chain in & every piece of barber wire atop this fence, searching for the wrongness, searching for that which could be fixed. The wrongness, you abruptly understand, is not in any visible errors or breaks, not in what is or is not or what was or could be, but in the nature of how the people understand & engage with what is here right in front of them. Like this fence & barbed wire. You step forward to the fence & stand before you. You purse your lips & blow on the fence. The whole metal structure wobbles & heaves. You reach a hand out to the fence & wipe a hand across the chain links. The metal fence collapses as easily as an old cobweb. The chain links stick to your hands & you wipe them together to get the fence off. And there, before you, unrestrained, the wide body of water shimmers in the sunlight.