I really want to get this going....

Each day's listing is an excerpted edit from my work. These are numbered and sub-headed for ease of read and isolation from full body of continued text. Each small excerpt is a single-themed piece culled from a much larger whole. Please follow the heading numbers down to #1, or click on 'archive'. The highest numbers are most recently posted, obviously. If so interested, for follow-up, you may contact via e-mail shown - perhaps for discussion or annotation needed.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008


201. GOD MOUNTAIN - SUN STREET (nyc, 1967):

As if not to be it all comes shuddering down drum circles and tourettic jazz drummers together swirling about like eddies of wind and swift shafts of light breaking through a cloud bank and the wildest people I ever saw were just standing around waiting for something to happen : beatniks in drag broken down hippies on crutches and wagons pulling dogs and monkeys who sang for a dime and the long lines of aspects and angles - every lawyer's biggest dream - made everything valid as the girls were eating music and two guys with hats were beating on bongoes while standing on a pallet made of bread and the trucks rolled by from Chambers Street stopping each moment to try for a turn but the bridge was always in the way and only birds flew this low while Chinese dreams and old Italian mothers fought fiercely on the hanging lawn - Benedict Arnold Tom Paine and Nathan Hale himself had all come out for the tragic display and they all were singing Shakespeare from drainpipes at the stove but marigolds and other souls had spent their last demise and the only things left were pieces of papers and pieces of eight : everyone it seemed had already left and I was left alone just looking at today : and I started watching this girl nearby who seemed all activity and no rest and she was fraught with some sort of anxiety or tension and I couldn't tell from what it came : sex fashion beauty or art : it was unidentifiable to me yet I watched - and it all had to do more with her carriage than with her character as there was really nothing other than that being displayed and to dispel any notions of depth from setting in she wore frivolity like a scarf - it flashed and flew around her like birds to a lovely tree and words meant nothing - so of course they were spoken quickly and flatteringly about anything and about all things - not stopping not even for a respite of air or breath - in the window's reflection apparently once more looking at herself she applied red lipstick a too strong red at that and - incredibly to me - while still talking with those lips in motion being stalked and stabbed at with a red lipstick stub she went on as if nothing else was occuring and it was a steady display of a ragged aplomb which I found startling and calming at once : her boots were of black leather and had a harsh heel but the look was good and the sweep of her jacket and dress both worked together nicely to signal some higher fashion and a form of style unknown to me : and I thought to myself 'being bored' doesn't mean 'nothing to do' as children imprecisely complain to their parents on a rainy day while dragging their feet and tugging and kicking on the sofa but it does mean rather that something BIG - whether it's rain other people or hot-to-the-touch fears - is keeping us from doing what we want to do - from playing outside from experiencing ourselves or just from moving forward - and then I wondered if she'd know any of that and I watched her light a cigarette with the all the grace of a lamb as the slow steady wind thrice blew out the match but she persevered and found the charm at last.


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