Wildness in the wilderness of whiteness and wildness in the spasm of Melville. Of course Thoreau talks about walking, walking us through the walking, yet I remember in high school when I thought he was just a bitter old man who forsook the sage of old age and decay and now I think he sounds just about right, especially talking about walking. Most of the time I go about walking and talking, and I wish I could step into this strange thoughtless chasm on a walk. Or better yet, so that I could get some shut eye, no more fisticuffs with my enemy sleep.
However, sauntering through this city enables us to catch sight of the wildness Thoreau doesn't understand, the wildness of society, the wildness of humans rebelling against, or just thrown outside of society's door. Bums are the wilderness of the city, possibly reverting back to the animal ism Dear Henry David would all like us to achieve.I'm willing to bet they are full of some strange primordial instinct, they've just lost sight of the trees, and possibly in some cases that of the mind. Let's all walk out and be gutter-babies and feel the animal magnetism in the streets. I'm asking for a resurrection so Thoreau could come walk with me in this cliched thing called "the concrete jungle". Motherfucker, Ergo.
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2 comments:
I have been thinking, in all this of wildness and wilderness, that:
if wildness is partly made up
of risk and danger,
that the city is our contemporary wilderness.
that it is more wild to be in
the cliched thing,
than it is to be in a forest.
p.s. bums being perhaps the most instinctual, perhaps the most free
I think I will write a book called "Takin' it to the streets with Thoreau."
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