You might not be alive, as you think:
Behind the glass the crowds accumulate\ strange manners of death appear\ flies proliferate on the silence, and the eyes that push against the glass stare at you\ like the sun.
So, it was not a shelter; you have been in the glass’s flesh since the beginning, when you were a face, drawing in the first palm trees your image.
Now, another wave approaches; from the end of the road the naked men burst, and are extinguished on a wall — which stands like glass\ before your face, so you know you are still in the time of creation.
from Dayplaces:Showdowns Concerning The Beauty Of The World And Its Depression
Translated by Naseer Hassan and Jon Davis, with Christopher Merrill