William Bain

Algiers

Sky blue sands perhaps a line
south then various axes sienna overlay
and each zone off the main highway its own shade.
A name may inspire surprisingly color
some ordinary day of some ordinary week. Algiers.
A city to which I’ve never traveled. But if thought
is a kind of movement pre-movement a line
that could be a highway. Embodiment—think about it.
Oh to abreact the ambiguous human face on the horizon
to tell the single multiple smile.
Tamanrasset. Mali. Chad. There is magic in the architecture.
And look at the growing features of the zones.
There is a sense of freedom in being able to story in film.
Algiers is a city and a highway, perhaps a line or point.
There should be a way to let the flowing grains of sand sift through your fingers.

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escalator

ground floor first second all the
way to the top—
that single touching glance
velleity in the ceiling
ytiellev impossible in the
tread
second floor first ground

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