PERFORMANCE--SURVIVAL DANCE

Date: Everyday (weekends to be confirmed)
Time: From 8.00-20.00
Place: Traffic lights on the crossroads of Río Mixcoac and Moras
Cost: "Whatever you will" (A smile wouldn't be too much)

If you're lucky you'll be able to catch a glimpse of his art. He has exactly 2 minutes to pull out a blue shaky ladder, set it on the crossroads, climb it, juggle a couple of clubs, three rubber balls and end with an impressive fire eating act.

You won't notice. Chances are you'll push the accelerator as soon as the red light turns green.
You won't notice. You'll be looking for something to listen to in the radio.
You won't notice. You'll probably shout at the kids on the back to shut up.
You won't notice.

Today the ladder stands still with legs wide open. Blue and lonely. Shaky with a chain barely holding it together.
No act.

THE INVISIBLES

Sitting all along the street,
they stretch their hand
at people passing by.

They beg for coins,
for a quick glance
to acknowledge their existence

They are there
but nobody cares.

CONCLUSIONS

I know my window faces west: I've only seen sunsets.

Then again if I woke up earlier...

Well... maybe just in the middle. Ugh!

up to the top

THE DARK

At night.
The wind.
The crack.
The lighting.
Out of light.
Thunder.
Downpour.
Cats meowing.
Dogs barking.
Screams.
Knocking at the door.
(On the window in the fourth floor?)
Knocking from the roof.
Knocking from inside the closet.
More weird knockings.
Sweating.
When will the lights come back?
Nothing can be seen.
Too many noises.
The lights won't come back.
Drowsiness.
Dreaming?
Morning.
Closed eyes feel the warmth on the face.
Yawning.
Open eyes.
Darkness.
At ten?

IRRELEVANCE

from sunrise to sunset,
from Monday to Friday,
from pay day to pay day,
from waning to waxing
small irrelevant differences
everyday that passes by
to the final sentence.