Music yearned like a god in pain through every earbud of every handheld device on the train, drilling into bone sockets like the train through sheer granite (Manhattan schist). Flooding the passenger compartment from the wheels below, God’s yearning, forged steel cacophony. A station approaches: trumpeting wheels snarl and chide. Above, at street level, the pulsating throb of the global economy, the universal machine, God’s pain mechanized, earth-shattering. The death-agony of a God enslaved. Universal power source for all our devices: the tortured God. The bleeding finger, the broken lute string. Orpheus dismembered. God’s body parts littering the landscape in the form of silos, wind turbines, office complexes, shopping malls and sewage treatment plants. And when we have carved the last edible morsel from God’s ribs?
Manhattan—one of the islands which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
The thought makes purple riot in my heart.
Cowardice runs faster than death (Socrates). Gallop on, splintered music. Behold, our immortality. (Darkness at the end of the tunnel.)
5/27/2014
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