First Avenue, NYC
July 22, 2020

Downpour

Fast clouds rolled across the overheated city this afternoon. Heat lightning and thunder. I love the free-falling sense of the atmosphere rearranging itself before a storm. On the corner of First Avenue, I watched a dozen pigeons gather on a traffic light, and I couldn’t remember if they always perched there or if this was weather-related.

Right now there are storms on Jupiter, unwitnessed and unseen.

America is back to losing over a thousand people each day to the virus. The owner of a company that’s eating the world made thirteen billion dollars in a single day. Now he has $189 billion. Meanwhile, our president brags about his mental fitness because he correctly identified an elephant in a test designed to detect dementia. He goes on TV and says, “Person. Woman. Man. Camera. TV.” He repeats these words like instructions. This is the man sending federal troops into American cities, hoping to transform peaceful protest into televised violence.

And for a lunatic moment I wonder if it will keep raining until everything is washed clean.


Cybotron – Cosmic Raindance

Enter | Fantasy Records, 1983 | More
Each night in 2020 I'm writing a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I want to etch these days into my memory before I forget them. Before the world changes completely.
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