Wash off your status, wash off your dignity
Like monkeys we are gathering; Like human beings we are departing.

MELTING POT

    In a tea-house, a capitalist is leaning against the window smoking a cigar. He blows smoke in circles, his manner bearing listlessness blended with arrogance. He plays with the circles of smoke, watching them growing and fading until they disappear in the depth of the house.  Outside of the window, a labor squats on the ground, opposite to a banana booth, shabby and languid, watching pedestrians passing him by as if he doesn’t even exist. Occasionally he cracks a scornful smile, glancing at the intellectual selling his ideas in the middle of the street…