Montreal sky

That's what is left after you leave Montreal - the sky. The streets are rubble, the viaducts collapsing, still, and Santropol still making your food stick to the roof of your mouth. They stick the food into slices of bread the way a journeyman pastes mortar between bricks. North America smells like rubble these days, the homeless seem to be recently issued from the middle classes, anyone with money moves around in mobile citadels, SUVs, email, blackberries, gated communities, closed minds, desperation everywhere. Montreal on the other hand has been rubble from the word go, and comes by its seed honestly, like Buenos Aires and Pigalle.

But tomorrow we return to the flatlands, and...

Les bourgeois c'est comme les cochons, plus ca devient plus ce devient bête!!!!