Towers of splendour rise up to the sky,
Blazing with chrome, reflecting
The lonely sunshine of empty heavens.
Smog fills the ravines, sinking down;
It chokes, it clouds the mind, it covers.
Sounds, voices and noises
Spread through the grey shades; rising up
They blind nature, deafen the people with their roar;
Streams of flesh, minds and thoughts
Roll through the gorging canyons,
Drifting, changing, swarming in chaotic movement,
Yet with a peculiar kind of order.
The animals of sheet-metal
With pieces of flesh
Not born as one, but grown together
Roll in the middle, between masses of man,
Roaring blindly, raging or crawling; unrestrained.
No eye can rest, no pulse slow down,
Captured in dynamics, impulses and intentions.
Like a rotting apple, the city decays on the fringes,
While wounded sunlight pierces misty smog.
Crushed pieces of life tend to melt,
Twitch on a broken street, long alone, reflect
The glimpses of vital truth forgotten.