A Mimesis of Purpose

Rows of tall, windowless buildings enclose a desolate street All of their lines are rigid and clean There is no garbage or dirt on any surface A warm but dim light of indistinct origin Causes their shadows to stretch unnaturally And assume a color darker than midnight Rows of tall, windowless buildings enclose a desolate street All of their lines are rigid and clean There is no garbage or dirt on any surface A warm but dim light of indistinct origin Causes their shadows to stretch unnaturally An observer, his mind swollen and stale Props his heavy body against a building In order to concentrate A silent mob drags a woman's limp body Across the street in front of him Her shirt rips exposing her breasts This moment exerts pressure on the observer He turns his gaze to a nearby tree Its growth, a gesture invisible to his eyes But persistently present, suggests alternative counsel His fatigue is overwhelming At such junctures a man determines how to dedicate his life This moment exerts pressure on the observer He turns his gaze to a nearby tree His fatigue is overwhelming