2.07.2011

MAN ON THE CORNER


A kind of subculture               a man of fine age
     standing in front of the corner bar 
with his acoustic guitar            This moment
     like a strobe-flash as I drove by
with kinetic action          I parked 
     I must have resembled a cubist 
walking towards the bar with camera in-hand
     hoping for a familial harmony        a greeting
enhancing an unchanged ambience     a direct
    language       an impression            Maybe
he'd play his guitar          sing songs for me
    as I photographed every surprising detail
of his timeless face        like constructivistic
    line structures        or would he feel distant? 
Does he already feel distant?        From a distance

                                                             I squinted
                                                          through
                         vivid light


My eyes                                                  as "fixed"

as the gentleman's in   
                 
Gordon Parks's Portrait of the Harlem Story

our eyes                                                 all the same

my eyes                     spotted
                                 a blank


                 space


now in front of the bar                     Disappointment
Where had he gone?             Entertaining angels? 
or angels entertaining me? 

Was he a mere Metaphor for Life itself?  Many harmonies
        restricted by an ever-changing body   mass   experience
the recycling of shadows      stretched to exaggerated forms

This man, following me in my dreams





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