the music on clinton street

i stayed on the subway yesterday...i could not bring myself to get up...it rolled over the east river, shimmering as if in a dream...the ferries and ships to and fro...the brooklyn bridge in the foreground, the battery in the distance...certainly a mystical experience...rising from the bowels and inner-workings into the light...it is in these moments when it all comes together and is pleasant...and on the way back, again over the river, i witnessed the crumpled souls huddling in the darkness come out of their slumber and become the children of old, and with the train, simultaneously rejoice in the light...then retreat, like the train, on into the depths of muck and steel and darkness...but we all have the memory, and soon it will be realized...together we will cross the river, suspended in bliss, suspended in the grasp of infinity...