I AM A TEMPORARY AND NOT AT ALL
DISCONTENTED CITIZEN OF A METROPOLIS
CONSIDERED MODERN BECAUSE ALL KNOWN
TASTE HAS BEEN ELUDED IN THE FURNISHINGS
AND OUTSIDES OF HOUSES, AS WELL AS
IN THE PLAN OF THE CITY. HERE YOU WILL FIND
NO TRACE OF A SINGLE MONUMENT OF SUPERSTITION.
MORALS AND LANGUAGE HAVE BEEN REDUCED TO THEIR
SIMPLEST EXPRESSION, THAT IS ALL.
THESE MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WITH NO NEED TO KNOW EACH OTHER
LAY DOWN SO EQUALLY THE PATH OF EDUCATION, OF TRADE AND OLD AGE,
THAT THE COURSE OF LIFE IS PROBABLY SEVERAL TIMES SHORTER
THAN ANYTHING A CRAZY STATISTIC SETS UP FOR PEOPLE
ON THE CONTINENT.
AND FROM MY WINDOW, WHAT ORIGINAL SPECTERS ROLL
THROUGH THIS THICK ETERNAL SMOKE.
OUR CROWDED SHADE, OUR MIDSUMMER NIGHT.
LATTER DAY PROPHETS FLY BEFORE THIS WINDOW
WHICH IS MY COUNTRY AND THE DEPTH OF MY HEART,
BECAUSE EVERYTHING HERE LOOKS LIKE THIS:
DRY-EYED DEATH, OUR DILIGENT LAUGHTER AND SERVANT
A HOPELESS LOVE AND A PRETTY CRIME WAILING IN THE MUD
OF THE ROADS.
