هنا كما نحن – أو في مكان آخر

You can see it, if you close your eyes. The last beast in the sky; cumulus, dark, constant. For now, it is surfeit; appeased, sated – and the crowds beneath wander in its shadow; complicit, ignorant.

The streets, perennial, remember. There is meaning in the ink, the paint, the cracks between. There is a message in their angular inflections, guidance hidden, instructions for safety. It leers at me, berates my ineptitude, screams at my naivety.

I have faith there is a future for us: here as we are – or somewhere else.