Sometimes on warm day or evenings, it's nice to sleep up on the roof.

I've always liked flat roofs: the feeling of being on top of the world; a feeling of closeness to big machines like a 15 ton air conditioner; a kind of industrial sort of space; an urban beach; a world of cement, steel, and asphalt, like sleeping in a parking lot but without the risk of being run over by the cars that are a safe distance below. Or maybe it's just the romantic feeling of being in a space that wasn't meant for being in (like an abandoned field overgrown by corn flowers).

It's like an urban beach, the sand and stones of the roof, and listening to the cyclic pounding of traffic upon the shores of the sidewalk below.

Dr. Stefanos Pantagis wrote a poem about this kind of space...

Tue Aug 19 10:43:13 2003
From Stefanos Pantagis
To: "Steve Mann"
Cc: "steve mann"
I did write a poem, if you care, dedicated to you;

Upon the roof at night
as gentle heat escapes into the wide expansion of the sky
and is swept up into the breeze of mind
memories of gaussian windows dark and reflective
slanted upon the unelectric thoughts of nature

sounds of silence
negated sounds of judgment
sonata and the unconcert nothingingness of brainwaves of the past
deceased artists visiting in the midst of the night

upon the roof at night
provoked Persians attack free men
united in nature
as sunken ships lay beneath the imagination
the triumph of free men

again the sounds of nothing upon the ocean of reflective windows of Gauss
and mathematic proglemata
as a time constrained Imannual Kant writes in the midst of the night
 hearing old Bavarian clocks
shadows of candles lit

upon the roof at night
conversations of yesterday are floating in the universe
ever persisting brainwaves
lift the skin
ever so full of sweat

upon the roof at night
sands of a lake
stir in the corner and flow from fingers
languages yet to be spoken

the sound of sand

by stephano of andros

Silent roof alone
warm tar, wires warm         {Betty's voice here}
electricity and sun
remain alone

An idea grows
keeping company a building    {Benayoun's voice}
breathing street sounds

motorized metal
shadows of nature
sculpted hydrocarbons              {Steve, your voice goes here}
solid and still
within the idea grows

Electronic muse singing sparks of freedom
silent muse: silent roof alone
sounds escape beyond street corners          {Derrick's voice here}
and approach the horizon

A sky without sun
in summer coolness
the night that lives in the day             {all read in unison to =
achieve a chorus and religious effect to tap into Apollo's Lyre}
silent roof alone.