Cherry blossooms today. Last Year here
I said, ” What do you mean you hate circus?”
He said, “You know… everything these days is circus…. The old Marxist thing: bread and circus.”
“But,” I said. “This is actual circus… not a metaphor, but real circus.”
He said, “Oxymoron.”
I said, “Don’t call me a moron.”
He said, “I didn’t… It’s a phrase… oh fuck it, you’re a moron.”
I said, “Dick.”
“What?,” He said. “I’m Miserable… What do you want from me? I hate circus. All these people hanging by a thread…. Don’t you see? We’re all hanging by a thread.”
What?,” I said. “That’s what makes it beautiful… the ACTUAL thread hanging… but I guess that’s a metaphor.”
He said,” I’m miserable…. Forgive me.”
I said, “Why?”
He said, “Why not?”
“How’s the blog going?” I asked.
“Haven’t you read it?” he asked.
“I always loved it. It was so funny, the way you talked about your life… aren’t you writing it anymore,” I asked.
“Isn’t that the way?,” he asked.
“What?,” I asked.
“You haven’t read it and I’m sick as shit about the whole thing. Blogtropy,” he said.
“What?”
“There is this place where you are writing about all the wonderful things you see and think and blogging it and then suddenly you are spending so much time writing about the things that you see and think that you spend less and less time seeing and thinking about anything… Who wants to read that?”
“Today I woke up and wrote my blog?”
“Exactly… that is blogtropy… it’s like entorpy only much, much more personal.”
I said, “Everything is changing, but nothing’s going anywhere.”
“Now I hear the music… I hate the circus,” he said.
“I like bread,” I said.
I went walking with walter who wondered at the thudding coming across the fields. He looked concerned and then I told him, “It’s just the circus.”
“The circus?,” he asked. “I hate the circus.”
I was strolling in Prospect Park, when my body felt the tingle-thud of highly amplified base. I followed the rumble like it was an oder, sensing it more than hearing it down paths past rivers and under trees all bursting with light, new green. It seems the circus is in town… only it wasn’t calliope music… this is the UniverSoul Circus…. so it was full of R & B base lines that can travel for miles… But I found the tent and stood next to a statue of Mozart in the Concert Grove as the enormous speakers poured Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra into the spring. It felt sort of like a revelation. All this has nothing to do with the music on this page which is from The Pogues. I used them here too.
