The few hours of NYC

2024-05-25 @Creative

So rarely have recent years enabled the screaming cosmopolis to simultaneously smother and inspire studious extravagance. And what better than the loins of New York City to author a delicious, ethnographic study of contemporary society from which I’ve distanced all but my presence? Should they impress today, the innate arrangement, the grotesque arrangement, the baroque arrangement would not pass unheeded by Piranesi’s own pencil strokes.

The Fifth Avenue conduit smoke transports the pedestrian towards the sacrificial altars of Wall Street.

Sun sinking, the compline mass cackling, and the courtly colombe pirouettes atop the Central Park rocky, observatory precipice.

A disproportionally giant Yerba Mate gourde trophies the lawn summit.

«Manga, manga, manga!» sensual Mexican refrains escape the cartwheel.

«Zajebisty zespół» reforms the dialectic.

«Да блин, но смотри …» stamps a firm, theatrical seal.

The Bohemian mixes with the Bourgeois mingling with the Szlachta over Porto wine.

Dollar fifty pizza slices, dripping gyros, kefta kebabs on charcoal, bucolic burger butchery and jerk chicken platters of ruby and gold consume the weed scented, deeply bitten, tarnished Hell’s Kitchen alleyways.

Beer-can, pringle-canister, bagel and paper-coffee litter expands like an orifice of roaches.

Mirth, sobs and faux photography greet the 5th avenue window refraction.

The Cathars take to the sacrificial rites.

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