Thursday, March 23, 2017



So we all came up then rather quickly walking in the grand glorious daylight as the buildings dropped their heavy raiment upon the street below and the spreading sky succored the air and the ever-widening lines of space and shift and the driving gentle lilt of voice and song all together brought out the best in every city street where vendors stood still in motion hawking their scarves and gloves and shirts and jackets and the wonderful jewelry of the earth and the gold chains and silver bells and ribboned hats and shoes and dresses and cloaks and the toys running freely on tabletops squawking with peals and buzzers and bells and rings alike to goods for sale but sounds and words in themselves and the darkened dour doorways wherein people lived were filled with the huddled and the Grecian urn coffee cardboard cups about and the vendors selling roasted peanuts and pretzels and hot dogs and soda and candy and all the foodstuffs of a single city street at one time working like a huge cauldron of fire and energy and work and toil and the men from all the other lands and the Nigerians and Pakistanis standing holding hands talking the squat briefcases of paper and deal and the card sharks awaiting prey and the three-card-monte fellows and the walking girls like harradins of ancient isles the vague sounds of metropole all itself the wide growing and closing world upon itself reawakening from a long-lost snooze and Herald Square then beckoned and the chairs put out for people all around the monument the fair and the Greeley pedestal and the lightened air with words and joy and lights and markings of three hundred city years of work and toil again and again and the walk from there down and from there up and the great oasis of O'Reilly's pub wherein sit the working drinkers of the world united the Irish the German and the Austrian the traveling craftsman the skilled artisan here for a spell and the shoppers dance through to eat and ask and the workers trudge through to eat and pass the time they've yet allotted to such horrid joy and toil like this the ale and the beer and the counted bottles of rum and rye the fair and distant seas around us the story-man with his story the two boys from the continent alone working and talking the merge and move all things together in one fair blush of time and manner and we walk past and in and stay to sit and stare and watch and the manners of all the street-folk change as we arrive the distant tongue sparkling talking glib the words the one and one again and anew at far and near to the globe itself we are together one at Herald Square where the plainclothes cops a'watch the crowd and the uniformed ones stand straight at curbside watching traffics the running cars the rush of curb-hopping pedestrians those who would run and walk and flee 'tween lights and the greens and reds and the yellows and the gated Herald Square of time itself all contemporaneous with all things and none and we decide to watch alongside the dated building high with broken brick and ghosts of other buildings still written on its sides and the black flat parking lot the fence the cars the life within the tiny gatehouse with the black man singing and throwing spittle as he sings the matrons and those whose garb and package perfect as together we mix and walk and mingle within broad waiting rooms and thoroughfares of time and place and the mix of faces grates but makes peace quickly within us within itself all time and peace and light and angle as everything all wafts through with the scented wand of God and Time together brings us forward and backward within this very world united somehow commingled like us as one as one on the broad array the Broadway the walking plank of all mankind.

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