Tall Buildings, Lost Words : Central Park, NYC

The wind is blowing up a gale and it will rain like hell here on us at the park. I dig and dodge unemployment and find a stoop on a hill. A raised point of view to see the people passing by on 59th street. The wind blows the paper bows the paper down towards my direction and keeps me from my words, from seeing them, but it doesn't matter much. The street yells and yells and grumbles and groans. Buses, trucks, cars, honks and the endless profusion of traffic. I feel like I must yell these words into the typewriter for them to be heard by the restless paper. Underneath the ground, through the rock and soil I feel the train passing by. When the rain comes I am fucked.

Walked from east 56th street all the way to seventh avenue, from second. All industry and cold fashion. All money and sleekness, sanitation. Sheer metal and the occasional tumble of litter, quickly snatched up by maintenance. Not a lick of personality to be found except for the occasional out of place homeless person. A large number (9) sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. The playboy enterprise headquarters and a bunch of clocks that tell us how relative time is to the world. And here, it's more of the same. Tall faceless buildings. Like the stone pyramid walls. Showing the might, the grandeur, the aerodomesticity of today's modern corporate world. It is all about projecting an image, and the image is rapid. It is momentum with force, all constructed. A cute girl is inappropriately dressed for the wind and from my view I enjoy the sight of advantageous cleavage.

Through the trees, the window of my view, I sit and see and type. The clacks quickly taken and pushed the opposite direction of my eyes by the wind. Jalapeno chips in my backpack and picking particles out of molars. Rustling green and white flowered blossoms of weed plants. All grass bending the direction of nature. But really, nothing to speak of at all. Three men in black suits lean with red ties against a black car that is no doubt also wearing a red tie. Flashdancers on top of the yellowcab. Baldor food truck and the ground beneath my ass starts to shake again.