"DANT A' CAGE"
(w11th and Bleecker)
All this simmering nonsense has a force - a
happenstance of its own farce, everything churning
as it jumbles about. Marie Francis is walking down
the street. Gorgeous. I'm at 11th and Bleecker,
and it's right there that I die. I dropped dead.
-
She is walking towards me, but she's in a different
time now, and there is a fog of smoke between
us. This is her time and these are her people
she goes to meet. I am distant, and she doesn't
see. Oh Marie; the last end of pain follows me.
-
It wasn't that very long off when I was - like you -
amongst my own contemporaneity. Now gone. Lost
amidst so many faces and forms. 'Odds and ends, odds
and ends, lost time is not found again.' (Please put
the new oil in my lamp).
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