walked through the wilderness of this world through
the city with the loud electric faces and the crowded petrols of the
wind dazzling and drowning me that winter
night before the West died.
I remembered the
winds of the high, white world that bore me
and the faces of a noiseless million in the busy hood of heaven staring on the
They who nudged through the literate light of the city,
shouldered and elbowed me, catching my trilby with the spokes of their
umbrellas, who offered me matches and music.
Take away, I told them
silently, the flannel and
cotton, the cheap
felt and leather, I am the nakedest and baldest nothing between the pinnacle
and the base, an alderman of ghosts holding to
watch-chain and wallet on the wet
pavement, the narrator of echoes.
I have Old Scratch by the beard, and
the news of the world is
no world's news, the gossips of heaven and the fallen rumors are enough and
too much for a shadow that
casts no shadow, I said to the blind beggars and the paperboys
who shouted into the rain.
They who were hurrying by me on the narrow
errands of the world, time bound to their wrists or
blinded in their pockets, who
consulted the time strapped to a holy tower, and dodged between bonnets and
wheels, heard in my fellow's footsteps the timeless accents of another walking.
On the brilliant pavements under a smoky
moon, their man's world turning
to the bass roll of the traffic, they saw in the shape of my fellow another
staring under the pale lids, and heard the spheres turn as he spoke.
This is a strange city, gentlemen on your own, gentlemen arm-in-arm
making a rehearsed salute, gentlemen with ladies, ladies this is a strange
For them in the friendless houses in the streets of pennies and
pleasures a million ladies and gentlemen moved up in bed, time moved with the
practised moon over a million
roofs that night, and grim policemen stood at each
corner in the black
0 mister lonely, said the
ladies on their own, we shall be naked as new-born mice, loving you long in the
short sparks of the night.
We are not the ladies with feathers between
their breasts, who lay eggs on the quilt.
As I walked through the
skyscrapers, where the lamps walked at my side like electrocuted men or the
trees of a new scripture, I jostled the devil at my elbow, but lust in his city
shadows dogged me under the
arches, down the black blind
Now in the shape of a bald girl smiling, a wailing wanton with
handcuffs for earrings, or the lean girls that lived on pickings, now in ragged
woman with a muckrake curtseying in the slime, the tempter of angels whispered
over my shoulder.
We shall be naked but for garters and black
stockings, loving you long on a bed of strawberries and cream, and the nakeder
for a ribbon that hides the nipples.
We are not the ladies that
eat into the brain behind the
ear, or feed on the fat of the heart. I
remembered the sexless shining
women in the first hours of the world that bore me, and the golden sexless men
that cried All Praise in the sounds of shape.
Taking strength from a sudden shining, I have Old Scratch by
the beard, I cried aloud.
But the short-time shapes still followed, and
the counselor of an unholy nakedness nagged at my heels.
No, not for
nothing did the packed thoroughfares confront me at each cross and pavement's
turning with these figures in the shapes of sounds, the lamp-chalked
silhouettes and the walking frames of dreams, out of a darker allegory than the
fictions of the earth could turn in
twelve suns' time.
There was more than man's meaning to the bare skull
bogies thumbing the skeletons of their noses, to the marrow-merry snackers
scratching their armpits in a tavern light, and to the dead man, smiling
through his bandages, who laid hand on my sleeve, saying in no man's voice.
There is more than man's meaning in a stuffed man talking, split from
navel to arsehole, and more in
the horned ladies at your heels than a pinch
of the cloven delights and the tang of sulphur.
Heaven and hell shift up and down
I have the God of
Israel in the image of a painted boy,
and Satan, in a woman's
shirt, pisses from a window
in Damaroid Alley.
See now, you shining ones, how the tuner of harps
has fallen, and the painter of winds like a
bag of henna into the gutter.
The high hopes lie broken with broken
bottles and suspender-belts, the white mud falls like feathers, there out of
Pessary Court comes the Bishop of Bumdom, dressed like a ratcatcher, a holy
sister in Gamarouche Mews sharpens her index tooth on a
bloodstone, two weasels
couple on Shiva-Nataraja's
It was an ungodly meaning, or the
purpose of the fallen
gods whose haloes magnified
the wrong-cross-steepled horns on the pointed heads, that windily informed me
of man's lower walking, and, as I thrust the dead-and-bandaged and a
split-like-cabbage enemy to my right side, up sidled my
no-bigger-than-a-thimble friends to the naked left.
He who played the
sorcerer, appearing all at one time in a dozen
sulphurous beckonings, saying, out of
a dozen mouths.
We shall be naked as the slant-thighed queens of Asia
in your dreams, was a
symbol in the
story of man's
journey through the
symboled city. And that which
shifted with the greased lightning of
a serpent from the nest holes in
the bases of the cathedral pillars,
tracking round the margins of the four cindery winds, was, too, a
symbol in that city
In a mouse tailed
woman and a holy snake, the
symbols of the city writhed before me. But by one red horn I had that double
image, tore off the furry stays and leather
We shall be naked, said Old Scratch variously emerging, as a Jew
girl crucified to the bedposts.
We are all
metaphors of the sound of shape of the
shape of sound, break us we take another shape.
snake and the woman stroked a
cross in the air.
I saw the star
fall that broke a cloud up, and dodged between bonnets and wheels to the
ill-lit streets where I saw Daniel Dom lurching after a painted
We walked into the Seven
little girls danced barefoot in the sawdust.
A negress loosened the straps of her
yellow frock and bared a breast.
Buy a pound, she said, and thrust her breast
in Daniel's face.
He faced the women as they
moved and caught the half-naked negress by the wrist.
Like a woman confronted by a
You are so strong, my
love, she said, and kissed him full on the mouth
But before the
sea could circle us, we were out through
the swing-doors into the street and the mid-winter night where the
moonlight, salt white no longer,
hung windlessly over the city.
They were night's enemies who made a
lamp out of the devil's eye, but we followed a midnight radiance around the
corners, like two weird brothers
trod in the glittering web prints. In their damp hats and raincoats, in the
blaze of shop window, the
people jostled against us on the
pavements, and a gutter boy caught me by the sleeve.
Buy an almanac, he
It was the bitter end of the year.
star fall had ended, the
sky was a hole in space.
how long, lord of the hail, shall my city rock on, and the
seven deadly seas wait tidelessly for the
moon, the bitter end the last
tide-spinning of the full circle.
Daniel lamented, trailing the
midnight radiance to the door of the Deadly Virtue where the light went out and
the glittering web prints faded.
We were forever climbing the steps of
a sea tower, crying aloud from the turret
that we might warn us, as we clambered, of the rusty rack and the spiked maiden
in the turret corners.
way for Mister Dom and friend.
Walking into the Deadly Virtue, we heard
our names announced through the loudspeaker trumpet of the
image over the central mirror, and, staring
in the glass as the oracle
continued, we saw two distorted faces grinning through the smoke.
way, said the loudspeaker, for Daniel, ace of Destruction, old Dom the toper of
Doom's kitchen, and for the alderman of ghosts.
Is the translator of
man's manuscript, his walking chapters, said the trumpet-faced, a member of my
What is the color
of the narrator's blood?
Put a leech on his forearm.
Make way, the
image cried, for bald and naked Mister
Dreamer of the bluest veins
this side of the blood-colored
sea of faces parted, the bare-backed
ladies scraped back from the counter, and the matchstick-waisted men, the
trussed and corsetted stilt-walkers with the tits of ladies, sought out the
darker recesses of the saloon, we stumbled forward to the fiery bottles.
Brandy forth dreamer and the
pilgrim, said the wooden voice. Gentlemen, it is my call, said the loudspeaker,
death on my house.
It was then, in the tangled hours of a new
morning, surrounded by the dead
faces of the drinkers, the wail of lost voices, and
the words of the one electric image, that
Daniel, hair-on-end, lamented first to me of the death on the city and the lost
hero of the
There can be no
armistice for the sexless, golden singers and the
sulphurous hermaphrodites, the flying
beast and the walking bird that war about us, for the horn and the
I could light the voices of the fiery
virgins winking in my glass, catch the brandy-brown beast and bird as they
fumed before my eyes, and kiss the two-antlered angel.
No, not for
nothing were these two intangible brandy maids neighboring Daniel who cried,
syringe in hand.
Open your coke-white legs, you ladies of needles, Dom
thunder Daniel is the lightning drug
and the doctor.
Now a wind sprang
through the room from the dead street; from the racked tower where two men lay
in chains and a hole broke in the
wall, we heard our own cries travel through the fumes of brandy and the
loudspeaker's music; we pawed, in our tower agony, at the club shapes dancing,
at the black girls tattooed from shoulder to nipple with a white dancing shape,
frocked with snail-headed rushes and capped like antlers.
slipped from us into the rubber corners where their black lovers
waited invisibly; and the music grew louder until the tower cry was lost among
it; and again Daniel lurched after a painted
shadow that led him,
threading through smoke and dancers, to the stained
lay the city sleeping, curled in its streets and houses, lamped by its own
red-waxed and iron stars, with a built
moon above it, and the spires
crossed over the bed.
I stared down, rocking at his side, on to the
unsmoking roofs and the burned-out candles. Destruction slept.
the room behind us flowed, like four waters, down the seven gutters of the city
into a black sea.
A wave, catching
the loudspeaker in its mouth, sucked up the
wood and music; for the last time a
mountainous wave circled the drinkers
and dragged them down, out of the world of light, to a crawling sea-bed; we saw
a wave jumping and the last bright eyes go under, the last raw head, cut like a
straw, fall crying through the destroying water. Daniel and I stood alone in
The sea of destruction
lapped around our feet. We saw the star
fall that broke the night up.
lights on iron went out, and the
waves grew down into the pavements.
After Dylan Thomas by Lawrence Turner
on Tuesday, February 21, 2012 at 9:27am
Information Security Pseudonyms
used by chameleon man as a rail gun. Information Warfare punches holes in
the Ionosphere. Weekly World News notes the Zen of World Domination. Rand
Corporation = Amherst Internet Underground. Pseudonym for Platform: 1911; 1984;
1997. The Eternity server allowed Skytel to be chosen as the PRIME Reflection.
Bubba the Love Sponge engaged in Defense Information Warfare for Jasmine Guppy.
Artichoke, Badger, Cornflower, Daisy engaged in Secert Service Terrorism
Defensive Information. Offensive Information Warfare allows
counterintelligence, industrial espionage and
industrial counterintelligence. Secure Internet Connections with Passwords and
Encryption spell Espionage. The Investigation
Echelon notes the key word Jack is not in the Dictionary. Macintosh
Internet Security and Macintosh Firewalls defeat Unix Security but not
Cypherpunks, Coderpunks, Keyhole Blowfish, Internet Underground or Indigo.
Counter Terrorism Security requires Rapid Reaction to evolving Psyops Security
Consulting, Investigation Echelon and Cornflower Counterterrorism. Electronic
Surveillance of High Security Gamma Keyhole. Corporate Security, Police perform
Security Evaluation of Sphinx Encryption. Waihopai Information Terrorism is
Offensive Information Counter Terrorism Security. National Information
Infrastructure requires Secure Internet Connections for Secert Service,
White House and Military
Intelligence Espionage. Corporate Security Broadside. Egret, Iris and Hollyhock
Beyond Hope. Capricorn/Gorizont/Merlin Firewalls activated.
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