"I considered what it meant to be sixty-six. The same number as the
original American highway, the celebrated Mother Road that George
Maharis, as Buz Murdock, took as he tooled across the country in his
Corvette, working on oil rigs and trawlers, breaking hearts and freeing
junkies. Sixty-six, I thought, what the hell. I could feel my chronology
mounting, snow approaching. I could
feel the moon, but I could not see it. The sky was veiled with a heavy
mist illuminated by the perpetual city lights. When I was a girl the
night sky was a great map of constellations, a cornucopia spilling the
crystalline dust of the Milky Way across its ebony expanse, layers of
stars that I would deftly unfold in my mind. I noticed the threads on my
dungarees straining across my protruding knees. I’m still the same
person, I thought, with all my flaws intact, same old bony knees...
Patti Smith"
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