We plunged into the Western Hemisphere. The chances
are one in five I've taken a capsule of poison.
The air smells like flowers; I look up:
The music in the railway station
presents me as a romantic understatement,
elegant wistfulness on a visit,
deeply concerned with the future and electric power.
I tried again: Do you not feel the need of some goal
as a guide in your day-to-day decisions?
Again a ghastly pause like the brakes of a car,
miles of shoreline and countless gallons of water.