Since 2014

The chute already knew how to refuse a crooked load. Soles were next.

Dorsey came off the drafts. Hattie came off a muni that sits in Kaw breeze. The barge office is what they built so lie would stop being a rumor from a catalog.

Kansas Avenue still smells like wet hemp after a rise. We kept the list culture from the river: a load either sits or it lists. A sole either kisses both ends or it leaks. There is no third column for hope.

Players from Oakland, Highland Park, and Nottinghill bring putters that looked square in a shop that never felt this grain. On this bermuda they fly a toe or they bully a heel. The chute exists to stamp the angle this town actually uses.

We still chain the chute on weekends. Grain desks always did. The plate does not get smarter because someone wants a bend before a football Saturday.