Brooklyn laundry ladder via flickr hive mind
There’s a slender ladder in the yard behind my house. I’ve seen it a thousand times; it starts at the ground and goes exactly nowhere. Patiently ignores the barking of the dog in spring. I know it was planted to thread clotheslines to the windows, but the pulleys have gone and no sheets nor unders wave and flap in the sunshine. So there it stands oxidizing, purposeless and nameless in a world it no longer serves.
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 