Night in the City
Night in the City Do you refuse to accept that love was here imagining birds, unearthing ruins? Rain, rain and music are black in these streets crowded with crucified people that walk, the dying that work, unburied corpses clapping and smiling. Perhaps there still remains in this space of shattered dreams, mashed dreams, another crazy dreamer repeating: light is close, light is near . But, as in other times, only a cold and empty silence answers, a festive, blind hustle and bustle of these dead remains, the perfectly dead dead. Only a sour, metallic drop of night can be heard, an immense black sheet of iron.