AND THE GRIST OF MY
MILL IS ENORMOUS
At first light I am outside taking the air - I just walk
and I never sleep. How does that mean for me? The
unpleasantness and atmospheres of a too-saucy day :
the Chinese cooks rubbing their hands in a kitchen
full of roasted meats, the two guys in white caps
stepping out to smoke in their blood-soiled aprons.
I think this is what cities are made for, and what they're
losing now - the ratty idea of a Life without end, staying
up all night, just unpleasantness everywhere and seeing
the little, unseemly things as they occur. When everything's
cleaned up, and people just want to life their happy lives,
it's over by then already - and I'm sorry for that.
I think I'll just stand here alone, and watch that
filthy loft elevator jangle and shake.