Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Monday, March 14, 2005

Niederdorf Dream

I can make out a bridge from my building from vast gridded window---is this San Pedro? My mind detouring to maybe not---New York? Brooklyn? The 'studio' has riveted corner brackets fastened to redbrick old and all is beautifully sandblasted; seems more ship than earth edifice. Savoring the newsmell of the labor---blown away by the impossible hours invested---and now all I see---it's due to labor unions and better morale....'anything can be done if the conditions are right!' E. Debbs and Caesar Chavez thoughts swimming around mixed up with San Pedro Bridge and rivets but now interrupted by pip-squeak mouse spying me from an indent in the brickwork. Gotta see and so I move closer...? No sign of mouse cavity but once again admiring same finely sandblasted handiwork; inlayed flushness of steel and mortar---seamless. How did they? But now gothic ding-dongs high and distant. Answer the door! I'm standing in my underwear in a supple teenage body, and on the way to answering bell I'm parked at a wall-to-wall mirror with hanging sports paraphernalia all doubled---surfboards lined up tethered, rollerblades, frisbee disks. I'm doing squats at the door and not answering; looking at my flexed thighs amazed at the frog-like definition. Dingdong dingdong. 'Let 'em wait!'---and now I'm squatjumping higher each ring and end up fingertips at the window above the door. 'Who's there?' I can't get an angle from my perch. I see the top of heads. Someone looks up but I coil back just in time.

Later waiting at tramstop Niederdorf, Zuerich. Big monorails like in 'Metropolis' running through medieval streets---crowd is lined up and here comes one now! A big fella presses me back from the big rush of vehicle whooshingclose windtunnel sounds nearly subterranean---I'm grateful now knowing I'd have been flattened. He warns me 'Die sind doch viel viel groesser und schneller als frueher...mann muss eigentlich aufpassen!' ' They're a whole lot bigger and faster than before...you have to really watch out!' We board and I realize it's N Rubin from Floral Supply and much younger now---how does he know German? I try probing with subtle hints, but realizing he's discouraging me from doing so and now speaking in oddly familiar Yiddish/Swiss/English pastiche half-jokingly like ancient vaudeville, then graver suddenly much older with false teeth half showing plastic gums giving me the willies---telling me he's in Zuerich to tie up some 'odds and ends' with the museum. 'Can't tell you what it's about, son' I'm mentally connecting all this with the banks and stolen art but say nothing. Something tragic here.

Fascinated by a buxom sugar-spinning girl conetwirling a long paper stem puffcloudy...bouffante...Cotton Candy! She's smurkles as she hands me the hairdo and I'm staring down at her glistening carnival cleavage---upright tits like saluting soldiers. 'Yessir!'


Blogger transience said...

why did the last paragraph fascinate me? was it the sugar-spinning? the conetwirling? the fact that her tits showed grace under pressure? probably the last. i am a lady, yet when i see bosoms prouder than the gestapo, i tremble in awe.

9:40 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

transience said:"...the fact that her tits showed grace under pressure?...

I was wondering. If her name were Grace, then her tits would be showing pressure under Grace, no? Either way, I could have left this last part out, but as it was there in the mix...

Most of this stuff is PG or R rated. Anything X, XX or XXX is being saved to disk for later password only viewing. :-O

2:25 PM  

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