“Happy Easter, we have free edibles,” he said from blood red orbs and fringy hair tucking our from under his trucker hat. Gap-toothed and happier than any nondoped human could be. “Once KGB, always KGB,” said another with vascular arms. “Stephen Miller is a sociopathic psychopath,” a friend responds. “I’m singing in a club at 19th and 9th.” “I have to explain everything to everyone.” No, you don’t. No here. There is near-total acceptance here. No matter the transgression, there isn’t a penalty to be found.
Red necks and sweaty straps. Balding dads, physical foreshadowing of their doomed sons roaming below. What’s mine is yours. The first hot day. Bodies on display. Creamy skins and gothic black drapery. Faces peering from inside the shadows. See me, please see me, but not too much. Great clouds of cannabis drift through shafts of musky light. Lighters flicked, flames holding fast as the blunt end is twisted and turned. Burnt orange, deep into the lungs of the city.
A dollar per fruit. Peels back and juicy. Temperatures change block by block as we near the water. Spring and winter duel for dominance as the clock tower chimes. Tables and chairs and benches and eateries bursting with humankind. Blue Ford writing pad. Notes here and there. Listening, always listening for what floats by. Free offerings of internal dialogue uttered or sneezed, or blasted out into the night. A deranged soul belows from the darkness. Drawing pad in hand, he scribbles an intense blue. Circles resembling his baldness stacked on squares and rectangles.
Sizemic shift, street current hums like two twenty or the center rail. Livewire, touch at your own risk. Checkes and balances tested, boundaries pushed to the breaking point. Who can stop this train? The end is near? So, this must be the beginning. Of something familiar or unknown? Doesn’t take much to tilt this game. Hard silver, flashing lights, penny for your thoughts. Put it down, get it down, sharpen the point, frame it up. If not for now, for later. If we get the chance.
Comments 5
You know, even with all of the scaffolding, the Flat Iron building still looks cool the way you photographed and edited your photo. Thanks for the update!
Danielsan: The games of old would let you walk-the-edge of violent movement, tilt, then start over…The game we’re in now, might not have a “hard-reset.” That said, Happy Holiday!
Welcome to NYC! Looking forward to seeing you at the walk tomorrow. Should be nice weather, too!
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That was a good day. Great to meet you.
Likewise!