'AMONG THE DEAD'

303. MANIFESTATIONS OF INTENTIONAL COMMINGLING WITH THE POOR AND DESTITUTE : or (‘AMONG THE DEAD’):

1. WE NO LONGER NEED:

'We have already evolved - a few times - to the point where we realize we NO LONGER NEED to exist and we can just imagine that we do - and deal with those eventualities alone and we are all Godhead, each, and our part of that eternal is the activity of a constant creating acting witnessing advancing and processing – which circular motion brings us back to another go-round of what I’ve just said : we are already evolved to the point where we realize we no longer need to exist and we can just imagine that we do and deal with those eventualities……'
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There no talent worth repeating and nothing that makes any sense ever comes from trying too hard and because of that (it would seem) everyone I once met had a story to tell and they also harbored some false hopes for a future some tired reasonings from the past and in between a bevy of contentious prattle about the present day : however it means my next prize or whatever it may signify is not to be composed of limitations and closed rooms and sealed windows outside of which the light enters from another place - static and warm and still - and I dreamed all that on one night of horrible dread amidst a situation worth nothing except avoidance – the handcuffs were quite heavy heavier than I’d ever thought they would have been and they hung on my arms like leaden weights while I had to watch the pitiful lineup of misfits and stalwart low-lives creeping morosely along the wall until they each were fingerprinted and apprised of their rights and situations me included and then let one-by-one into miserable cells with a single toilet in the center and we sat there for hours while various police creeps came around with clipboards and lists and charts and names and spelled out for each the amount that had been turned in the sickening name of some slimy lawyer type who’d been sent and arrived to ‘represent’ them as if a hearing in the presence of some God itself would suffice for passage to Heaven brought to you only by some articulate greasemonkey attorney possessed of an Esquire alongside his name and dollar signs for fingers and a pointed dagger for a heart - it was all like that and everywhere the same and I said ‘I’m tired of all this just take me out and shoot me’ and then I asked for rope or a knife or something with which I could end it in place and those around me snickered and watched instead the girls go by and they too were in the same situation as we were : wharfside cockroaches caught in the act – stealing fucking soliciting shooting up sleeping in puke taking a shit talking sass or burgling and the rest - yes even girls do that and sometimes harsher too - but there was really nothing about it exceptional Weehawken Street the Westside Highway Jane Charles Mortimer Horatio all those streets with peoples’ names Washington Street the whole bunch of Westside places which back then thrived on crime and destitute actions by destitute people - mattresses piled up in the back of an abandoned truck like a dormitory of sin and swagger with people passed out all hours and seemingly forever but all it was really was someplace where the dead came to pick up their mail and the women inside were apt to be busy and cars which came and went held some Harry or John of no real consequence to anyone there – a set of organs and pipes and place to park whatever you had to park something to get money from and there it was I slept standing up with people like John Halter and Larry Smirk and anyone else who’d come and if someone didn’t have a name someone else gave it to them and all we did was look at the river and watch things come and go – sometimes there’d be a couple of cargo boats or whatever and they’d be loaded with something wrapped and bundled or on pallets and we’d get hired for five or six hours to help unload and being as we weren’t really dockhands or any of that it had to be done quickly and sort of on the sly in case ‘others’ took offense but we mostly managed and sometimes too we’d be able to stash this or that aside so as to pick it up later - sometimes tins of ham or bottles of water or soda or booze bundles of crackers or anything like that but that was the sort of really loose living and easy confederation that was prevalent then and it was fairly easy to get by – I think a lot of that’s gone nowadays in fact probably all of it as everything is secured and guarded and everyone’s on edge and nervous about everything and besides all that hip traffic on the small-scale we knew is finished as everything’s huge and containerized and used with cranes and lifts and on really huge scale and this older-day means of transportation which I’m writing of had disappeared - there was a time too when the Hudson was used for all that agricultural and farm and apple farm transportation on barge or boat and both sides of the lower Hudson here would be filled to teeming with people scurrying about and horse-pulled wagons being loaded with fresh produce and stuff but that too was long ago – a really long time ago in the old Washington Market days which actually had replaced once already the older market piers and stalls still farther downtown along the Westside piers – the old Lebanese section then and the area where once the Twin Towers stood - that’s how many layers of genuflection and color are beneath the streets and avenues of New York City – it was all convenience and commerce and whatever worked worked for a while until it to was superseded or worked out by the next place or thing which worked better or was more convenient and eventually everything was replaced by something else and as a fact now it’s all gone all over and the resultant pile of leftover New York bears little or no semblance of anything of what it once way - all over it’s clean kids now and style and fashion and fag night-club scenes and genteel ethnicity ad it’s all rotten and overpriced too - but no one knows nor gives a damn either.