I.
Ominous and empty and then glorious and empty 

Würzburg. Sistine. Glass. His windshield is framing a hybrid ceiling

Here below, Miracle-Gro hastens to add a thousand standing Adams
pointing fingers, trying to connect

II.
How does this color his morning commute?

Caution: Resist the illusion of order and weight

I’ll try to unpack:

Gary Wright’s “Dream Weaver” (atonal whine) is competing with
Debussy’s “Afternoon of a Faun” (stereo). Gary brings Mary bleeding
back in

Thirty years and certain names—say Mary née Brown—and you’ve
got the proverbial needle

Last night he tried googling her but Google was no help

Larkishly he tried “Mari” and, after a scramble of detours and scrolls,
found an interesting excerpt from Job 4:16: “a silence, and I heard a voice”

*

In the morning, over the usual coffee (medium) and scone (maple),
he read, via his Kindle App, Conrad’s intro to Segher’s Transit

Seems our story isn’t getting any better:

The human race now plays the role of Hitler’s army, overrunning
and ravaging an entire planet, not just a single continent. And where
else can we hope to go? There are no safe havens left, no “fabled
cities of other continents” where we can start life all over again
or rescind the iniquities of history

*

A few days ago, walking in an area of the Shore he wasn’t familiar with,
he was delighted by the street sign for Lois Lane. He blogged a photo of
the sign. Titled the page: Is Clark Kent around the Corner?

*

There’s the current Walmart commercial about “successful” Americans

*

The climbing body count in Dhaka