PANA

I dream of myself in the neighborhood. my neighborhood where the grass did not grow just reinforced concrete among sea-saws of shriveled wood. a crazy geometry structered everything for us the buildings ordered us. there were narrow alleys like wrinkles on a forehead we meandered through them like drops of sweat always looking for a new place to hide then I see myself on the stairs by the elevator the small manufacturing flaws in the sandblasted glass door gave me the priviledge to understand the world and how it was born when my young neighbors made claustrophobic love waking up dazed in a spacecraft taking them to the 10th floor the blue floor where they vowed to each other to stay together forever surrounded by concrete nothing was a joke I slide on the red iron tobogan forged in an infantile form that marked us for misbehaving to the market place with all the people at the the rapist-murderer’s public se...