4277. THIS GOES TOO FAR

THIS GOES TOO FAR

(walking the financial district)

The man with the newspaper is blind, and that

fellow claiming enlightenment, I know, is an

idiot. He is waxing his car with saliva and

 polish, though it will never go anywhere at

all. His distance-maps have no destination,

and his Nirvanic Paradise is but a chink in

the armor of another waiting man.  Along

the sea-wall, something is churning  -  waves

splash and curl, a few sickening boats go by.

Festive names, the fortunes of Wall Street

brokers, those guys whose tongues always

loll, throwing money at boats and cars  - 

tycoons wearing the hats of disease.

-

Down here, at the edge of Water and William

and Wall, it was once a bucolic grove. The

the buttonwood tree took over, all those

colonial men trading futures and bushels

of oats. Horses lined up, pulling decktop

carriages filled with lucre and change.

None of it was really anything at all,

but now there are fortunes, and men

in thrall  -  a trader's paradise at

William and Wall.