I AWAKE IN NEW NOISE
(for the Avenel crowd I know)
Those tearing down buildings don't stop at destruction;
they have to rub it in with noise. From the nineteen twenties
here an old industrial plant is being taken down, one noisy
step at a time - for light, it's said, for happiness and mirth,
for new, classy condo-housing for some smarter set due
to come in. The New York trains sit right there. Whoppee!
Can't wait! Thin-legged, purple-pants, top-hatted gents of
fey swagger will so soon be stepping off that platform. The
Arts District crowd all over again : just like Princeton,
though without McCarter. And the women! Wha-hoo!
-
On the other hand, right here, right now, there is the
seamless drudgery of the everyday crowd - they traipse
off to eight o'clock work, trudging their kids and bundles
along - off to the school just over there : weird, old
crossing guards in their safety-electric-yellow garb;
people almost out of work and reach. The cars slowly
wait while schoolbuses unfold and jello-laced teachers
drive in. There's an art to that to. Here I live.
-
Avenel Street champ, one left-turn in. General Dynamcis,
originally Security Steel way, way back - maker of steel
safety cabinets and then submarine electronic parts, falls
away like a dream now bludgeoned by incest. We partake
of foul cruelty, watching it fall and be ripped apart.
Take a moment to stop. Let us watch : it is, after
all, Easter, when things rise again.
No comments:
Post a Comment