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Invisible elephants have left the circus and are now amok in the cityscape. The Trekkies disembark from the Enterprise and flip their phones, taking pictures, a camera shoots them from the 6th Floor window of the old Texas School Book Depository.
Does anyone man the switch booth? Train yard like a prison yard.
This place, but the other side as this place is the back of the current 6th Floor Museum, stands as the greatest of all camera battles. Am I making this story up? The paparazzi's dream. The average citizen on the scene. Who got the photograph? What was in the picture? Where was Oswald—busted in a movie theater? Who wrote this script? Zapruder. Does a picture constitute evidence? Trajectory of the bullet. Physics.
Our senses have long been questionable, and our enhanced senses even more so. Fear of the spoof, of doctored evidence, of the Baudrillardean replica. Don Delillo. The motorcade. Jackie O. Warhol Campell's Soup. Consider Plato.
Once upon a time, the sniper's perch had a giant Hertz billboard on its rooftop. Aliens of all sorts in the city. The Red Brick Courthouse, Dealey Plaza, the train tracks wrapping from across the bridge to behind the grassy knoll. No electric billboards here. Train tracks leftover put to new use.
Below an ordinary train track.
Computers. Dallas/Dulles. Pentagon Parkway. Dealey Plaza again.
No statue of Caesar here. I'm still looking for the open cubicle with the monument block at its center. The consecration of assassinated time, but no figure, the face of the man. The cenotaph.
A drunk or dead man is in the walkway of the bridge on the sidewalk. David Lynch. I only see his shoes. No one mans the parking lot between the Grassy Knoll and the railroad tracks. The light is on in the booth, and no, I'm not visitng one of Dallas's topless bars.
Meter maid. The replicas. A poem by Randall Jarrell: "A Woman at the Washington Zoo."
The switch yard becomes clearer. The text, thinner.
But the cenotaph, the monument, the time we encounter?
When asked for a bio, Jeff Crouch said:
"In the Dallas-Forth Worth metroplex of Texas.
Culture as history, politics, and art, the conjunction thereof.
Time as Moebius strip.
Splicing poetry into it."