Floor after floor of productive space, under repair, under construction, under excavation, under the microscope. Twirling and dancing here under the public headlights (where were you when the lights went on, the walls disappeared, and the building began to spin? In mid-air, of course, swept from your desk into the hurricane wind     . . a hive of words that articulated as streets and avenues, office buildings and windowless apartments that I flew through like a dare-devil. .