.
Fisheye panorama at the intersection of Wall Street and Broad Street, New York City: photo by Martin St-Amant, 12 October 2008
Creeps crawl
nightcrawlers creep
The money is tired
but the money never sleeps
within the echoing
vacuum of The Street
nightcrawlers creep
The money is tired
but the money never sleeps
within the echoing
vacuum of The Street
U.S. headquarters of Deutsche Bank, 60 Wall Street, New York City: photo by Mike Roberts, 4 January 2007
9 comments:
Tom,
A Blakean feel to this little beauty. The poem and photo seemingly mirror reflections, especially sans the period. Round and round we go.
Fine work.
Don
Don,
Yes, these weeks the mind has been swimming around in dizzying reflective channels... picking up faint atonal ambient songs of Eternal Ignorance and Twice-Shy Experience -- whether "real" or not, dimly audible in the city air, these late hours and minutes of confused clarity.
("Something's going on, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?")
Tom:
The difference between the sentient and not: knowing the not-knowing.
For this, we declare ourselves top of the food chain? No wonder we're all so dizzy.
Don
PS Yes, the twice-shy has been in the forefront of my mind in recent days, too. And that ominous Blakean feel - so very, very hard to shake.
nothing more
&
noh-thing less
than (its)
numerate solitude:
if it wasn't for my memory
I wldn't get noh-sex !
(or poems/art - images : real or imgined
The poem and photos (especially the fish-eye view) are very, very effective. The previous comments all add significantly to the experience. Curtis
Love the fish-eye view. Love the poem.
Tom,
Nice to see how this little one finally evolved from the earlier sneak-preview version you sent me as comment on one of my own.
WV: sucksa!
In the middle of the dark wood of my life, I made a dumb left turn and got a job. The bosses had made their money in the Market and with that money they made a Metro magazine. I was the editor. Once the bosses discovered that the magazine was not promoting the town from which it emanated, their visits to the office became increasingly tense. They had grasped that we, the, staff, were, in fact, the enemy. They could feel our eyeballs bearing into their backs.
They accused us of one unforgivable workplace crime, which one of them described as "giving the fisheye".
While on Dantesque situations...
Before hell mouth (Wall Street), Ezra Pound encountered William Blake, running on a corkscrewing road on a steel mountain.
And the running form, naked, Blake,
Shouting, whirling his arms, the swift limbs,
Howling against the evil,
his eyes rolling,
whirling like flaming cart-wheels,
and his head held backwards to gaze on the evil
As he ran from it...
No, Tom -- Not the fisheye! I wish I had a chance to read your Metro magazine. The Pound excerpt is wonderful. Curtis
Post a Comment