These Are The Days After. Everything Now

You Have To Break Through The Structure Of Your Own Stonework Habit Just To Make Yourself Listen.

I Marched And I Protested Against The War In Vietnam, Along With Many, Many Thousands Of Others. But I Never Quite Understood The Bombs That Were Placed In Science Labs Or Office Buildings.

People Hurried Past, The Others Of The Street, Endless Anonymous, Twenty-one Lives Per Second, Race-walking In Their Faces And Pigments, Sprays Of Fleetest Being.

Stories Are Consoling, Fiction Is One Of The Consolation Prizes For Having Lived In The World.

In The Face Of Technology, Everything Becomes A Little Atavistic.