so i walked down the street. up. down. up. down. several times. wall street. and not a single building was without the name. in golden paint. and that door to tiffany. full of smell and desire. and fifty seven strangers posing in front of washington. george, they called him. clever man, i say. and if you saw the statue. the girth of pomposity.
and then down the bifurcation. to the monument. where they say liberty resides. in green. i find that the paradox. for if this district of finance ever complained of raging ego. and aggression. point your fingers to that statuette in green. quite lovely with the flame. even greener.
and then back to fifth. at my little table at barnes and noble. two books on the wood. the harvard psychedelic club. i don't remember the other. people came and went. for six hours i sat. sipped on steaming tea. while water drizzled today in new york city. and the sun never shone. and the street of wall. cluttered with price-tagged tourists. with insufficient jingles. whatever happened to the empire?
and then came clarence. and drexel. and isabella. in a violent circuit. and they spoke of stocks. and trump. real estate. and i think, leather. this young man -clumsy to the skin -dropped two cups of espresso. on another woman by his side. sorry is not the solution.
M's birthday. i'm not there. things happen. happy day to her.
i've been looking for salons. the jets are playing. the colts. new york and indiana. i think i'm still a little undecided. came back. time for turkey sandwich.
the lake looks grumpy tonight
3 comments:
writing better than ever tanmoy. i can almost see you walking those streets. almost. where did all those long rambles go?
yo. we need to catch up. you and i need to go to new york. i miss the city so so very much.
wonderful :-)
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