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| Backwards Isn't Forward ~ Gregory Ferrand |
In the city, where citizens practise and develop the close-contact art of Avoidance, skills that serve well in the crush of the crowd but not so well in the carnival of the soul.
In the city, where the bridges perform their colonial duty; an admirable skill since what more is a bridge, besides its art and edifice, than a means for conveying traffic from one side to the other?
In the city, flashing lights and telescopic sights, pedestrian-packed and torn between existential anxiety and the desire to fly.
In the city, mask wearers of the incorrect caste are faced with fluorescent testosterone dipped incorporate thugs who form a phalanx in a civilian area, all at the behest of their corporate monsters.
In the city, where taxis creep and busses lurk, where the shadows of the past threaten a painful berth for the future.
In the city, where the bridges perform their colonial duty; an admirable skill since what more is a bridge, besides its art and edifice, than a means for conveying traffic from one side to the other?
In the city, flashing lights and telescopic sights, pedestrian-packed and torn between existential anxiety and the desire to fly.
In the city, mask wearers of the incorrect caste are faced with fluorescent testosterone dipped incorporate thugs who form a phalanx in a civilian area, all at the behest of their corporate monsters.
In the city, where taxis creep and busses lurk, where the shadows of the past threaten a painful berth for the future.
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