I knew a man who ate the concrete floor and vomited it out
into soil. He never knew how to speak or write, all he knew was to eat cement.
His face was covered with grey dust and his eyes were as pale as the city when
it rained. His body was well built but every time he ate, he looked weak, like
a man sipping food from a hospital bed. I never knew why he ate cement.
Sometimes I think he was trying to save the world, to turn it back into soil, a
mission to rid the ills of progress; to stop us from turning the earth into a
cold hard tomb, sealed from all that is natural.
