Little city glowing in the heat-haze next to the river.
Tight streets spitting out grumbling, lost souls in the middle of nowhere. The entropy of the afternoon.
Great pillars of learning drew veils over themselves - not today - smirking in the comfort of age from high over our heads.
Thirsty for the shade of noontime trees, whose limbs tangled feebly with the sun's density.
Foetal, wrapped around and around yourself, thumb quietly pushed into mouth: frivolous sounds are admonished - as with monks.
Here is where the modern world cannot penetrate - yet the 21st century is assimilated without blinking.
