Reality is a sprawling city whose tendril fingers
Reach from node to node across space
While people in cars immobilized
On limited-access highways
And in the gridlike streets
Hear and see confused words and images

The sounds of exhortations urging rapid action
Like that of a firefighter in a burning forest
Or encouraging the refuge of comfort
Restful furniture sweet foods
The downy relief of familiar performances
Familiar melodies in familiar keys

Some sounds harsher more grating
The sound of heavy manufacture
The building trade railroads and utilities
Transport of materials and burning fuel
The silence of surveillance
The silent weapon locked and loaded

Stands of woodland here and there
Wetland grassland frozen expanses
The creeping myriads alive or dead
A few bugs and birds in moderate altitude
No hungry griffins patrol the sky
No dazzling phoenix cloaked in flame