Cities and Eyes II

Whose eyes scan a city, and see it like this?

"Nothing but skeletons aslither down the side-streets; for look, already their ghosts haunt the photographs. The bracelets and bandlets that dangle, there on the bare arms of swirling dancers - how cold they clink against the wrist-bones; with a hollow sound, knock, knock knock. Death haunts the dance, death, travelling back and forth and through, the one known fact of the future, coming for you, too; death.

"Death, look how it drifts with the music in amongst the dancers, and waits for the transient drums to fade. It lingers with a knife in the shade, it prowls the shadows as poison in a pill; it surprises you, you tumble off a window cill. Dance, dance, while you can, beautiful woman, beautiful man. It has no worth, the skeleton dance, but then neither does this dance of words, destined, too, for the same dirt of the earth."

No, not I, not Fist.

Answer to the question in the previous post: A young Alfred Hitchcock.

(To be continued...)