Nature
Culture
|
This is the dream of breakfast in the Ideal City, table for two on the geomantic plaza before the Colosseum and the eight-faced baptistry. Each square of the red check tablecloth extolls perspective. Your coffee cup slides up and away. Everything here has a point and on this point it all depends. Even the bagels are bent.
What are those hills, you want to ask, ranked far and farther within the cloister's ellipse? Why is the sky so abject within this scene? When will the ideal citizens arrive to sell me gunpowder, calculus, and reason?
Your morning's partner rouses and smiles a crooked smile as she cuts your daily bread along the bias.
|
Two
Alone
|