Ontogeny

I remember the city when it had to be plugged into black handsets for distant listening. Conical coral peaks rose up from sky-blue shallows once - right here under the entombing concrete. Nothing grew in that place except heaps and hills. This city is a garden we have made out of fabricated conversations; talk does that, it creates chaos then it’s expressed the way a concrete reality needs to be poured into a pre-determined shape to be defined. Now cellular-phones are growing cellular reefs, the city recycles these small abiotic words into mulch and various pressed materials that form roof gardens: places where parrots have time to chatter while evolving into dinosaurs.