Travelling

Entire landscape south from Boston to N.Y. cruddy, with technological waste, wreckage as into darkness moves this train. An American, what can I do? Strange flat ponds still mirrors under still sky with grey-brown fur protruding in their midst - must be the rough beast that lives there. Can politics do this? What can I do, an American? A general throwing up of hands! The means of production rise up to thwart the ends. A thousand disseminated smokes re-gather in the sky to return to their blackened stacks. How can we go anywhere with all this luggage? In the lake, a quiet boat, a stillness prevailing. Material, it is not you! Absorb our violence! The great shopping centers light up the night.