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γñ»Ý Ô³ñëÉÛ³Ý
NEW YORK
4 AM, Greyhound bus terminal, Negroes, porters, escalators, lights, escalators, piONEer, always CocCa-Cola, cig-ends resurrected, Campbell's cans warshipped, pillars leaning on dozing bodies gobbled up by clothes frenziedly munch my remnants sprinkle above police eyes invisible under visors, on clubs to hit, slash, cram bodies with bruise, to exhibit bodypainting autowards pulse eloping with the heart, allnighdaytmare, lifelong ROAD up to, disCLOSED, bulged sleepless eyelids, escalatoring out and out and out into the Newyorkness of omnipossible dossing plus the orgasm of porous imagination jerked off by the past days routine, while doors sesaming open, beggars clutching at the newly-shown-up utterly novel, funny to hysteric giggling, eyelashes resembling their reached-out alms-hands five witch finger-nails of which prick the tyro's empty belly. Pulse again and no more, again and again no more and again. New York & fear to make a step on. Strangers in the night. O. O that Mike or Nick was his, well, all I can recall now is that it was a nick-maim, that Hungarian unlucky porter-out-of-New-York-night-awe who asked not a rusty penny for carrying half of damned heavy items o' mine. Armenian, Hungarian, Bangladeshi lump each other together, talktalkandtalk on till you can feel the beat and feel the they-are-none-the-worse mind frame to draw you vorwaerts groping stolzvoll through the streets unknown and brutalizing to the point of adrenalin boiling all away, wrong a way, right away with the thousanded sun-sperm bursting through enormous labyrinth of longest stone-pane geometricall cocks of N.Y. Three cheers! the sleeping, the awakened, all nations, races, and sexes that encounter each other perpetually right here or a little farther [good morning lady excuse me where can I find the six hundred thirty fifth avenue?] like the most eccentric rediscovered colors flowing into one another's indispensable expressiveness from upon the Artist's Canvass into. I find the Armenian flag in the bunch of others deceitfully waving themselves to us. Told of existence of no 635th avenue. Ladies and gentlemen even if even if building # 630, avenue # 5. I HAVE BEEN TO THE SIX HUNDRED THIRTY FIFTH AVENUE IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK!
March, 2001, Yerevan |
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²ÛÉ ï»Õ»ÏáõÃÛáõÝÝ»ñ
www.karenkarslyan.com
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