“…huge Chinese cities completely empty of people.”

The hunger I felt amidst the emptiness of men.

How long, startling streets drew off into a distance

That seemed bleak and despairing.

I saw the night for what it was,

A time of transition from one

Skeletonized dream to another.

The bones of this world are haltingly tall,

Redundant forms lacking imagination,

Except that it seems imagination is not what is of worth.

Reflected in a pool

It glimmers.

The narcissism is a blur.

If I were to cross this oasis,

I would just be polluted by the facts

Of men on each other’s backs,

Of skeletons stacked

Of each whisper:

Quit your jobs and turn back.