mexico city

by uzwi

An old Ford Taunus with a drift of fallen petals across its bonnet; sunshine at the end of a side street off Reforma; guns in the cafes. At dawn yesterday, I thought Mexico City had this strange brown soapy light, but it’s the dust on the outer window. Already bored with the resurgence of the disaster story, I wonder if you could write something like that in which the charge was reversed & the world became beautiful. Still broken, & still freed from meaning –built environments & ideologies– but unbearably beautiful.