from the rooftops to the ground beneath our feet

There is an aerial on this roof, an antenna, and on it are hanging, invisible to the eye, the laundry of thoughts those beneath the roof have hung out to dry. Those thoughts, fluttering and snapping like the flag the next yard over. The transmissions the aerial receives bleed into them, stain them, dye them. When will the householders take down their thoughts and hang up new ones?



Behind things
The fronts of buildings are designed for show, but not the backs. The behind-world is an interesting...