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Hattie r u sure it was left on your door by a passing bird and wasn't 'left' there by some failed Soprano wannabee?

I love it in NYC that even the local birds have to be 'famous' ....Pall Mall... relatives... Luv it...

Sick as it was to see it did make me feel alive to see 'Nature" as opposed to taht fuckin mouse in my building that I can't wait to hit over the head with a hammer as he lays on the gluetrap gasping for his last breathe

(NOTE TO ANIMAL LOVERS ...Please ignore last paragraph... i had the devil in me when I wrote it).
It is a person's mind turned into a studio efficiency apartment on Avenue C. !
Complete with view of some incidental civil unrest down the block.

I forgot to add a Yoruba proverb I hear people in the neighborhood share:
"The people who SAY they are teaching you to be tall are the same people who are teaching you to be small."

But since this is My Own Private East Village nothing here has to make sense to anybody else.
Not the old woman who has been living in the cracks too long who gets God Stuff from things too simple for you to notice -don't step on that candy wrapper, rare as a blind pigeon.
Not the Pentacostal girls who wear dowdy sack dresses but paint their faces like Celia Cruz. Not the virgins with closed eyes who, in white dresses, are led through the streets by old women laughing at the men.
Not the three year old asking, "Can you run from B to Clinton and beat the cars on Houston?"
Not the landlady who climbs five flights of stairs to knock on your door, flash her .38, and tell you that as far as the rent goes the building owner in Jackson State Prison, Detroit, wants CASH.
Not the one person you finally reach on the phone, after calling ten different people, who tells you it feels like their head is going to explode so they can't talk now.
Not the 386 Hydra Shok hollow point Plus-P that bounced off a twelfth rib, jellied a liver, and is caught in the corner of the Corona Girl's smile pasted up on a bodega door.
Not the firemen who are down the block dowsing a smoldering mattress while they help themselves to the teevee, camera, and jar of pennies.
Not the one-armed 15-year-old who finds it easy to get in to the building front hall to catch a little sleep thereby showing you how a formerly right-handed youth can teach you how to get something simple and available as a dream while the building complaint inspecter you called claims he is not able to locate your building on the block.
Not the sad face drawn on the bank clock.
Not Bimbo Rivas' daughter in whose dark eyes the notes of songs resist their intervals of silence to respond to Loisaida with the valiant continuation of the life of her father.
Not the ghost of Lucky Cien Fuegos softly singing, "Mi casa esta en la Avenida C, yo nunca espero oir de ti otra vez."
Not any of that.
Last edited by seven
How's this for an affront.
This morning I'm drumming in Tompkins Sq. around quarter to ten.
And fucking Sesame Street tries to have me kicked out of the park.
No joke.
They were filming in the park and came over to say, "We're picking you up on our audio."
I asked for a fee to go away and the director accused me of trying to extort them.
Then she went to get a park worker who, thankfully, was very appreciative and courteous, just asked if I would move but by that time I told her I only had about ten minutes left before I had to leave so she just said O.K.
It just kinda hurts that a film crew can come to exploit the marginal community for a resource and they think they have more priviledge than me who lives there.
People can be soooo arrogant and conceited.
Next time keep Big Bird in the dog run.
Outside your 5th floor window at 11PM.
Your tax dollars at work.
And then when you are on the roof -just human nature to find out what is going on, right?- the local goon squad member comes up to flash his badge and nine millimeter telling you to keep off your own roof, like he is unaware you were one of the 8 million people it took to pay for the flying police station.

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Last edited by seven
Tonight's shootout on your block sponsored by 600 years of racial oppression and only 8 years of a Federal Idiocracy plus their economic collapse which is also why two homeless people now sleep in your building's entryway every night this summer. Welcome to literally backward progress to the goodoldbadolddays.
Next? How about the TNT squad with their machine guns and flak vests. The only time city services get delivered promptly here is when they themselves are getting shot at !

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Last edited by seven
Aside from the few weeks when I was hired by the Federal Government, as part of their program to employ disadvantaged youth, during which I worked on a demolition crew tearing down fire damaged condemned buildings, my over ten years otherwise spent exclusively on the underground economy always serves to inspire me when the time is officially quantified in this document by the Federal Department of Taxation and Finance Social Security Administration. The precise glares from deeply blinding small ovals of white paper enframed by the numeral zero, no-things evasive like horizon, literally refer to the amounts of my governmentally untrackable income, and a wild, undomesticated life. As statistics, the zeros promote official ignorance about activities I undertook to generate money outside the scope of authoritarian approval and social respectability. The pleasureably complicit curvealinear marks exist here before the eyes as such a tangible material monument to real Liberty obtained yet through the centers of those zero marks swirls a vast blank from which flows metaphysical expression of source where all freedom originates and resides. One thing that comes to my mind, especially these days, when I gaze at this excremental dust mote from the government datacloud, is how for ten years nothing I did enabled the government to extract any money from me to pay for building bombs and dropping them on people. When periodically mailed this mute totem of my total escape from the deathculture, I become hushed, placid and reverentially thankful about never having really been allowed in by The White Order.

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at dawn
Mercury passes before the Sun
seen from Avenue C
shadow coughed by microscopic permanence
no more outer space on surface of time
ancient as how a black cat crosses the street.
chance, mortal.
comprehension aspires upon void.
silent immense motion what
may be understood from
being within
sight. now lifted
away from everything Earthly,
abandoned tantalized sense
empty quiet
morning radiates upon street.

I live in simplicity, tranquil and innocent,
free from compulsion to infringe
the freedom of others.
I shed my dignity in order to manifest grace.
So complain about the way I live
but refuse to offer me paradise
so you can display
the class origins behind your objectivity.


Por qué usted no baja adentro a la calle
y vea cómo es carinoso lo hemos hecho para usted ?

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Last edited by seven
HA !
What a marketing conceit.
Only in NYC would ecological consciousness and real estate be combined as fatuous, exorbitantly expensive status symbol.

It has nothing to do with the Lower East Side but everything to do with how exaggerated and distorted the city in general is.

How does the song go ? ..... something like:
Avenue D will be owned by rich people's dogs
the mayor will lift all the poop scooping laws
as if we weren't already drowning in enough
government shit
let's get rid of all the real estate terrorists
Last edited by seven
Chico deserves his own topic. While I do generally love folksy local art he's just rotten. He's loves to depict the obvious recent deaths that everyone is overly sentimental about: Lady Diana, Mother Teresa, Selena, etc. I remember cracking up when he misspelled Selena!

I actually kinda like the MOM one, at least it's not about some overhyped celebrity.
I always gag when I see Chico do one of those pop celebrities Miss U. The one of Selena was especially bad. Ech. It makes me think he does that lazy comic book style just to fit the kitschy sentiments, or he doesn't even care about the subject he just does those types because he thinks everyone is in to them. And no one cares about Lady Di, Mother Teresa or Selena in the EV. There are much more rigorous aerosol artists around, check out the huge mural on the corner of 2nd and A. I will give Chico props though for trying to rep the neighborhood and for taking on young apprentices. Mom was one of the coolest people I knew in the neighborhood. She probably would have joined in your criticism.
While eco-indulgent condos is a weird concept the thing that hurts me more is a 3 and half million dollar condo on east11 st. That's the nail in the coffin for me ever living in NYC again, I can barely live in ghetto Baltimore. There's not enough johns in the world that can add up for a 3.5 million condo, lol

PS-I have been away from NYC for some time,, is it really true that condos go for that much in the east village?
Last edited by Yvonne
quote:
Originally posted by seven:
There are condos for ten million Babette.


Oh my,, that's insane,,,, where's common sense in buying a condo for that price? maybe this is where the stimulus money went,, into condos,,,lol

The more I read about NYC the less I want to go back. I'll happily live among the red necks where I live now over the 10 million dollar yuppies of the East Village. Actually it is quite sad for me to read things about NYC..

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