Coup de Foudre

When recognition and estrangement become the same (thing?, or place/feeling)
accusations are forms of forgiveness. Stories come down to one phrase repeating
rippling, ripping itself from itself. When something obscene is happening in public do you stand there and watch, or walk fast away from it...I knew this one woman who every time she passed an ambulance, would find a partner and begin tangoing in the street to the rhythm of the sirens. Nothing to see here. Nothing to see here. Abject serenity. Insignificance, and then all of a sudden an affinity to freedom. Milonga, means a thousand heels and no stampede. If fear and dread are the only things that move us we must manufacture them too. Opportunitists, spot an emergency and tune their instruments to its reach. Appropriation is something different. So-what, so- what. I wanted it thus. Midway between intensity and ridiculousness there's someone I recognize, can't remember why. He's in this loud vehicle choking on his own heart, but at the same time he's watching it go by like spectacle goers watch a float and feel calm while they aren't the one on it