After a while, it opens one by one its mush rooms.
Category: epigrams and conundrums
I place myself
on the Underground map uneasily, wondering how such ideal points and lines can add up to anything resembling the surface.
Do the inhabitants of the past ever tire
of our clueless questions and our rapacious gaze?
What is it that we are missing
between footfalls, in a caught breath? What tic or tick of rhetoric makes the ground so unsolid wherever we are told we must mind the gap?
Threat levels us:
targets of surveillance, casualties of public sector cuts, persons of interest to advertisers and politicians.
Immersed in a language you don’t understand,
you become even more attuned to the music of speech and the dark magic of writing.
