“Didn't you used to live in the 1700 block of Tennessee?” for Kalamu

I went by there looking for where your house used to be. It seemed it was right in the path of whatever seismic shock and tidal wave that barge must have birthed. I went all around looking at stuff, artifacts, took pictures of a little collection of trophies for academics and band that someone must have picked up and put together, a set of three ornate glasses, houses pushed into the middle of the street, a living room and bedroom with their skins torn off, ripped-open view of somebody's daily life, spilling out onto the muddy crusted ground.