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Within the time which is near within the time which is come
pictures we have of the landscape zigzag as a dish
ultraviolet as cloud decks move
from sun to sun; there was no time to think to transmit

they sent it in puffs of smoke, in the sound, in the flesh of metal or mirror
pulsing through their thin metallic nerves to root for the thighbone
as a glowing band of light the ear unites with

Brisk bay winds dust the furniture for relaxed living
machines bring into our living rooms invisible waves, flows and forces
machines extended our muscles into a vapor--which even a dead universe
will transform into something else

A huge hollow in the clouds which stirreth not
a runaway greenhouse in a new cycle
a mass of shining, spinning earth-crossers sweep in close to us
a small iron core wrapped in coils by men in power
an unending roar of thunder thought of light
the passage way of force

process of a star at a saw-like edge
like uncollected garbage, in aging cells; encores without end

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