Pulverized pavement...

Beneath the crush of shoes

The endless hordes

Trodding forward

In the disquieting dawn

Marching to war

With briefcases drawn

Armaments fashioned

To embrace the mass excess

Of past and future use

Today is the silent revelation

Work without meaning

Touch without a feel

The enormity of life...

Struck down

In pursuit of the

Dollar bill...

And in the dream

I dreamt last night

I saw stars falling from the sky

The heavens teemed with

Unseen beings...

As I felt the crush of shoes

Coming down...

Upon my head.