To render the city – remove everything that does not look like money.




Is this a photograph

of a column of soldiers

moving into the city, or

a photograph of the same

forces moving backwards

out of the city, or is this

a photograph of the same

figures standing as still

in the city as they appear

to stand in the photograph?




Q: Is “monies” a real word?


A: Yes, strange as it looks. It is the plural of “money,” and may also be spelled

“moneys.” After my return from Europe, I found five different monies in my wallet. [This

particular example is more likely before 1995.] In some contexts, “monies” may also be

used interchangeably with “funds.” Monies earmarked for social services. [See previous





Conurbation! O

green city I

love you so

much I would fain

pay dear to be in

or with you and never

would I leave

you for another

except in a staged

withdrawal over

days and seasons

of forces as memory

its surcharge exacts.





Yet denomination is

a fiction there is

one God only

and everywhere as proven

at 2:45 on 5/6/10

when money’s singular

eye briefly blinked

the city’s very afterimage

out down to

its masonry and blazons.




I remember saving paper by not writing on it.

I remember saving film by not taking photographs.

I remember saving the city by not flying over it.




We paid to move

into the city.

We paid to move

through the city.




The “eat” in “theater,” the “evil” in “vaudeville,” the “it” in “city.”




The photograph is centered

on the photographic paper

though the subject is not

centered in the photograph.

The corporate campus

becomes its site as a scarf

becomes a shoulder or a map

its territory. The image is in

the photograph in a sense

the subject is not. When it comes

to occupying stuff, freeways

are the new buildings.




City you are not yourself

in the photographs taken

in the booth you could hardly

have expected to fit

inside. Too dynamic

to be rendered, entered, fixed

for long in a satellite’s short

memory, you are the total

entered at the base of a column

of figures, an entirety!




One may pay

to photograph

a man or a woman or a city,

a city or a woman or a man

may pay to be





We (were) paid to move

through the city.

We (were) paid to move

against the city.




You are not yourself

in the photograph you pay to

have taken and printed,

the one for which you pay

to have yourself made up,

and there is a vampire

in the checking account

growing paler and paler

with every withdrawal

that flushes the cheeks

of the city that does not mean

to be a map or a mirror

with a memory but is

burnished by use to reflect

the lamps that you pay

to have trained upon

yourself in the photograph




We paid (them) to move

against the city.

We paid (them) to move

out of the city.




I know how flesh behaves. I know how not to photograph it. Darwin, in London, is on

the money. But few of those now living can look into money and see themselves, their

semblances, engraved. I know how flesh responds.




Yet occupation is

a fiction there is

one task only

and constantly one next

action never completed one topdown

list tucked into

this I Would Prefer

Not To tote one

operation I might care

to perform on time.




Q: Is “cities” a real word?


A: No, strange as it may seem. There is only one city.




The funny old Gilded Age sound of “monies” and “monied.” They resemble verb tenses,

implying others. You money me.




The “Cialis” in “socialism.” The “demon” in “demonetize.” The city in it.




A clarification: The light

appears in the photograph,

the lamps do not.





money            you



           city                 me


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