the building in which i hold court as an imprisoned jester 10 hours a day sports a view of an old movie theatre which is being reduced to rubble to make way for another blight of condo's to disfigure the surface of the earth. the destruction of this old building is a constant metaphor that keeps luring me to the windows as if i was seeing something not meant for me, like strangers copulating or witches burning. I hate the humanized behavior of the giant claw that has been busy ripping out bushes that the crows used to hide their shiny things in from one another. yesterday, after they had chipped away at the exterior, two men used a rope to pull down the 10 foot high marquee from a very high place. as the men began to pull on the rope, it began to sway, then hum, then fall and the two puppets scattered like flies and ran for their lives and the marquee fell and the sound of it hitting the ground stopped everything within a mile and everyone looked about-wondered for a monkey-mind-second and then it was gone and that spectral fragment of memory of going to the movies for all those years- all the young lovers necking in the back, the mommies and their noisy kids, the loners, the broken families, the blue haired ladies...... and to all, a goodnight.