in the boiling parking lot
of america
i stand alone
and scream.
for all of the wires in the sky
that rain death upon our minds,
all of the machines,
their systems of babble and time.
i call
for unified essence!
a grace
to enrich us again.
as if from the sky
or from the ground.
SOMETHING so natural
as GRACE to revitalize
the coars of our BEING.
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