- Vol. 05
- Chapter 06
MEASURE OF MAN
At the twilight hour, standing atop this fearful symmetry I contemplate the palaces of art and the stairway to heaven, feel the air’s buoyancy as I watch the traffic tail-lights three thousand feet below: this world, a miniature menagerie.
The forests have been decimated, no tigers roam there, the hawk is just an outdated fighter craft finding a corner in a museum basement. The naked shingles of the ocean is a distant sound. The dolphins call no more. Forsaken and desolate are the gardens. Only, cities catacomb end to end: towers, tunnels, bridges, roads, connecting nothing with nothing. People swarming, jostling, running, clenching, clinching, filling, pushing, shoving, tripping, falling, connecting nothing with nothing.
The vision is fed into an auto-run machine and locked. The brain, the nerves, the heart are scanned and wired and clocked. The future prognosticated and docked. In short, the clock chimes of nothing else but good times.