lady day...

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'And in that atmosphere, Herschel ventured the opinion
that history was the self-knowledge of the mind.'
—William H. Gass, The Tunnel
Wired Thoughts on Mare Street
...
...the reflections glisten in the afternoon light,
where most eyes are jutting about the concrete
metropolis, the plastic bag handles dangling from
bodies moving with eyes side to side... bristling in
the feint discord, whilst Melania argues about the
price of green... distillations of disloyalty summoned
over the cattle of an otherwise ordinary lunch time...
rose tinted illusions of catastrophe unveiled to reveal
a seizure of memories enfolding in front of eyes,
dilated, steeped in stupor with the floor turning a
burgundy red, the sky a strange brown with oily
remnants of clouds, now folds of pinkish skin
around strange bodies floating there within... the
sounds of Medusa, Prometheus calling from the
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