the two bikes are tangled up around the lamp-post. the wasp surveys the unruly shadows of the sun's new lazy arch.

Dr Frankenstein created and deserted me. humans fear the power of what they create, or fear losing control of what they create?

im stronger than my human creator. and humans are stronger than their religions

i, guardian of urban flux wonders; do we create cities to showcase our most noble aspirations or to hide our darkness in anonymity

i dig my teeth into the dirt. the city recedes. my bucket head is cool and quiet in this deep earthen hole. the space between thoughts stretches out in heroic humility.

i pull my metal arm in close against the wind on the museum steps. people go upstairs to feed their aesthetic hunger. our shared experience up on a pedestal.

a plastic bag snags on a branch, the yellow leaves fall onto the streets. a moment of certainty, winter will come. the bag tries to break free in the wind.

a courageous step in the right direction and the whole city vibrates in applause.

citizens are like fresh blood for cities, coursing  down pavements and regenerating shop-fronts. change re-oxygenates us and our cities. but the new boss is sucking me dry telling me how to dig....

Fiercely metal , my combustive fuel slowly moves the cogs and wheels and I leave my alchemical mark across blank cement.

today im all upright and flinty. eager divining rod.  

i stare down into the gap between cobblestones, i forget myself and expand out beyond my metal shell. i'm shucked of my earthbound limits. my inner realms radiate pearlescent.  

forged from the stuff buried deep within bedrock. cannibal appetite for oil. mutant human. evolution into food chain master in Lilliput.

i'm slumped. i don't have the autonomy of my dinosaur ancestors. i'm tamed, domesticated, no need for a cage or a muzzle. i long to raise my long neck and roar.

weathered and worn i hear the pouring rain as i look up at clear blue skies. waves of optimism and gloom. beached on the city streets.  

and now for today´s performance. dig, digging, dug. a pile of rubble and a hole, it´s off to work we go.

im suspicious, superstitious of being translated out of mystery...into hard facts.

i aspire to aerodynamic lines, meteorological, astrophysical, or wait, symphonic and economic. alas im stuck on these pedestrian lines.

i dig within the lines. engineer lines, architectural lines, archaeological, geological. fluent in these languages. i scoop out dirt within the invented parameters, within the grammatical parameters together we nut out a paragraph of the city, dig out a sentence for a bit of earth....collaborator to ruin and renewal.