"I don't know where it all came from / I think I dreamed about my home" - Grand Salvo (aka Paddy Mann)

This picture is intended to be ugly. It kind of says something about the city, about the city's brain, about my brain, A BRAIN, that can fragment without warning and inhabit hundreds of little pokey compartments and sub-compartments that are damp and cold and don't have any toilets. Each place has many dimensions and can be seen from many perspectives. Each place is filled with the chatter of peculiar voices and the fleetingness of peculiar faces -- if I let myself think that way.

I don't want to think that way, not all the time anyway. And yet some days the will to rise above the tangled-up metropolitan world, the desire also, is just so hard to draw on.

Somehow, if only obliquely, Paddy Mann captures this. His words are beautiful: "It's like knowing a language that nobody speaks / or building a house where no one will live / it's the work of a lifetime that no one will read ... I remember when we used to sit / And the silence would be so complete and so sweet."