A thousand broken barrels

I have never seen such a thing

My world is too new

And too precise in its occupations

Of tiny lights

And tiny voices – I can tell you

The stories of unreasonable lives

But industry, commerce

I know nothing

The movements of men

Broad back and arms turning the world

Triumph and death in the thousands

Cannot touch the sofa

The comforter

Coffee in a cardboard cup

Children die

For the sake of blondes and hyphens and special features –

The glossy mask

Lain over the desert by lazy Eros

And his fat henchmen

Of which I must count myself one