The City is a dynamic
living narrative,
an unfolding autobiography.
A melding of countless
invisible stories;
raveling...
Not in words,
but in movement,
fear, desire, need, coupling—
the daily of living.
The city seen is a narrative
painted upon the canvas
of the city invisible.
The soul of the city
however,
is found not in the narrative,
but in the illegible depths of the unseen city.
To think that the ‘painting
is the narrative
is delusional.
For what is seen is but
an incomplete snapshot in time,
one fragment
of the ever-unfolding narrative.
Yet we delude ourselves
into believing
that we can arrange the narratives
of the "captured city"
into a college
called "The City."
Deluded
we convince ourselves
that the fiction we write
is the The City.
And the City
ceases
to exist.