Established Marvel : a Monk by Abbreviation

53. GO WILD LIKE AN ANARCHIST:

I’ve always wanted to go wild on some count or another like an anarchist in a gun shop or some crazed stranger on a train but it’s always seemed anarchist turns soon enough to antichrist and that becomes the end of it and there’s nothing left but the legend and the storm behind it so just like that we’re here too in the middle of something "the fires are still smoldering underneath everything and the white heat smoke can still be seen here and there pluming up as water jets continue to douse whatever’s there and beneath it and one month to the celebrated day they still talk about something something else some other evil about to befall and while they talk other places bombs fall to no avail any avail but the semblance of justice prevails all the travails and it appears that newspaper after newspaper still runs the little stories and vignettes of the dead with the postage stamp sized photographs of some something other person from another day SMILING from a honeymoon a cruise or some nutty backyard picnic which they yearly ‘loved to throw’ for the half entire neighborhood and "surely goodness and mercy shall follow them" like Rabbi Martell or Father Ricky James or anybody said anywhere even the very tall lesbian Episcopalian minister woman administering to the flock and it is sometimes said that nothing good can come from death but it already has I say for at least we are thinking to each other about who and what we are and what we are for or against as if the little philosophical differences we make matter and it’s those things which allow us to go back over the pictures and talk rationally about choices and what remains and look at the ruins from along Vesey Street to try and witness to try and find something to say and the old faded lettering of the shoe-shop wall has no meaning now nor does the blunt edge of the broken stop sign the shattered glass panes of stores and offices the old entryways to the many small bars and dens and eateries which once went along the sidestreet to nowhere between office and lunch and ten thousand coffees everything everywhere has decided to change RHYTHM TRAFFIC LIGHT WORDS AND TALK and now only the fearsome are afraid of fear for we all now live within it relentless in pursuit of its furtherance and deliverance and APPARITION (‘yet my religious man no one has yet seen the Virgin’s visage in a window or the face of God on a wall or the fallen waxy beams in the shape of a cross NO CLOUD FORMATION SAYING REPENT no vagrants yelling THE END IS NEAR ! the end is truly near’).
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And yet I truly wait for that for that something to arise for those Lazarus letters to come knocking from every well-written tomb the tattered cloth and robe of the man speaking in tongues with no tongue the fellow from Hades or Heaven (‘ya see buddy at this point it wouldn’t matter a‘cause no one would believe this stuff anyway – like some crazy old dream you have over and over about someplace some old address you haven’t been to in twenty-five years see that’s what a vision’s like’) and anyway I’ve been in this city fifty years myself seen every angle of it from upside to up to downside down and can recall for you pretty nearly everything that’s no longer around even though they still call it some big deal famous city it’s not really much anymore all slabs and big buildings built up to the sky for to be a ‘city’ like this used to be it’s row after row of something that’s alive and real and small enough to make sense if this is today then it’s like we’ve been taken over anyway ourselves by something and that something won’t debate shit about itself but just keeps bragging about its freedom none of which it has IT'S A FUCKING OCCUPATION ARMY we’re arguing about my God don’t you see and anyway bitch ‘I WANT TO COME ALL OVER YOUR FACE’ that’s what a prophet would say today and that wouldn’t go too far now would it but the mental man is written in the trees and the stones and the rocks that we walk like the only place worth anything maybe now is the old wall along say Central Park West where you can walk along on one side and see light and dream and air and the other right on down from there to there Natural History Museum to bullshit Columbus Circle and above and below too where reality lies and my God does it lie !