Algae grows where water flows/From the sawtooth roof/To the mines below/The sun climbs high/But is in no one’s eyes/A wall alone crumbles/It was no suprise
An exit from the concourse.
The windows reflect the sky. The bricks hit the ground.
Looking up the tallest structure left at ACME.
Unit 4’s lower levels.
Looking at the ghost sign from a rust-locked cement conveyor that linked the silos with a packing warehouse.
The flour mill’s interior is really just a system of steel and rubber tubes that crush flour over and over in the gap. This mill was never run off of water power directly, but it used to generate power using the river.
The chalkboard in the filtering plant reminds new visitors of the last day.
We mark our world in unexpected ways… this is how patient possessions would be stored during their stay in the old asylum wards. It’s about the size of a shoebox, and this particular drawer has a name where the others do not. Its place reminded me of the hospital cemetery where more than 3,000 are buried and less than 1% of whom are recorded by stone or plaque in their resting place.