A city rises
From the top floor down into the city.
Below, the surging streets of Buenos Aires.
The city where everything turns out fine.
They take you with them at angles
of ninety degrees. But a storm of shadows
is raging and pebblestone buildings
revolve. One of them
has a heart of grazed red stone.
And so not to see how a heart unburdens itself
you go down. Keep your shadow close.
The red hem around your neck flows out
into a red river. Think waterfall.
The lid of a piano slams a house tight shut.
A building whacks against the wall.
In the lift you stumble over the threshold of a secure house.
A ceiling of stars ascends.
So do twenty storeys plunge. Their whole length.
An entire city rises.