The other place

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Yesterday’s sandy Empires melt into the gorgeous warm air: a chewed fabric of me and you, them and us. Tales of revolt and domination: of slavery and struggle, salt and spice, of Che. Sugar canes wail and weep, and we dance alongside them. We pour ourselves into a glass filled with wine reddened by the gentle blood of everyone we ever loved, hated, feared and dreamed.
I gaze at a pit of naked destitution, a soul of roaring fear advancing, spiralling towards me out of a television screen. And I see sadness, madness, joy and community. I see utopia.

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