Frankfurt am Main Central Station; 2007-05-25
If a conductor on a fast-moving train compared his clock with the many clocks in the stations he passed, he would find that the rhythm of his clock is hotter than the maddening quick dry rhythm of goatish feet on the ground. On the other hand, it will appear to the stationmasters that he was hotter. He was intolerably hot compared with the speed of light.
The conductor was always instigating hotter rhythms –the blows of a baton, quick, staccato…– than the rhythm of the conductor's clock on the train passing the station with its hot tide of flesh that ever thickens. In this train you may drop a book, play catch, or allow a pendulum to swing freely. His time lies as far behind the beat as possible, and he solos emphatically out of the grey mist of primal chaos. This effect is small, and could be detected only if the velocity of the one clock that passes many others were not clanking in metallic rhythm.
Darkness presses hairy-hot where three make crowded company every Monday from 10 P.M. to 2 A.M. at Smalls, 183 West 10th Street, Greenwich Village.