The Don Quixote of New Jersey
There may be better places to sound for depth, to mine for connections, to steep oneself in the near-eternal and give the ultracontemporary world the slip, than Edgewater, New Jersey. But from just outside my three rented rooms on Undercliff Avenue, through the rusty sideways diamonds of the staggering fence that runs along the walk and separates the occasional pedestrian from the oil tanks and cranes below, there is much to consider.
