THE CITY AS AGITATED VEIL
Looking at the passing groups : passengers in
masses. Are they one, or are they all completely
separate? I descend to details : figure, dress,
posture, stance, bearing, being, there! That
glance! Are they all aware, and what is it
they dance? Some far and distant land, still
with them within, and shining out from a
brighter light? Or local, home-sought things
I do not know, of each? Askance then, who
are the noblemen or the laborers, and how
to tell? Merchants, attorneys, tradesmen,
brokers, jobbers - each would speak or,
if they would not, am I to read their silence
then and make my fine distinctions? I need
to see that wanderer, and gaze, steadfast,
in his face. He who does not notice me
will be the one I notice, free.
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