That we allow some violence to prove us rebaptizable...

I woke up with a little German girl in the early afternoon. We had breakfast by the window so we could watch the snow. "They're exaggerating so much on the TV. They make it like some kind of Godzilla--a snow tornado!" I laughed and cleaned the dishes--feeling good to be inside with warm water splashing over my hands.

A few hours later, the feeling of hopeful tranquility had grown tiresome, so I went out for an orange juice.

I trudged through the snow in my old man's parka with a scarf over my face.

I was crossing (with some difficulty) the unplowed street in front of the polish deli, when suddenly the silence struck me.

I stopped and looked up at the blue streetlights. Above their movie set glow, objects flew silently through the sky.

There was the rush of the wind, and as I really listened--a far off ringing.

Like all the car alarms on Maiden Lane on that morning.

I remember how the origin of the eerie, melancholic sound was completely incomprehensible to me for several minutes while I crawled in circles on the debris-strewn street, dirt filling up all the openings in my face.

"Where am I? What happened? What's that sound? That hideous computerized whine?"

I had to know--I needed the first domino to place on the path back to my thoughts.

My thoughts, my darling thoughts--all I wanted in the whole world was to have a single sane string of things that I knew.

Finally I realized that all the flashing yellow lights were blinkers...that some of the cars parked along the street had turned on in the crash.

"The cars, the cars," I thought, suddenly triumphant. If I could figure that out, then I was on top of it.

The cars were crushed; the cars had stopped working.

The snow swirls in front of me--travelling in moving, everchanging mounds...

...a gathering hush...

a command without reason...

a fucking neverending magic trick of some now you see it now you don't shit, like when the ashes shot out from where the Towers stood.

raymi and laura

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