Santiago at Night

All day they've been self-consciously buying
first world shoes, slipping out of the first world
office and into a coffee bar. Now it's night, there are
French films and Iranian films at the old theater,
the pedestrian passages are almost empty. A first
world exhaustion overcomes the cooling footprints.
In Santiago, the night belongs to the yellow buses,
the guy who sells peanuts and candy bars, the maids
returning home from a clean house. In the theater
I watch a movie about Afghanistan, a place without
the shoes and offices we have here. It is night,
the theater is closing, the place is exhausted
from a day spent knocking on the door of other worlds.
posted by Adam at 2:53 PM [edit]