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They are for commerce and they hold out sex
and bread, apartments, videos, meat,
street after street
across the valley-floor for all our sakes.
Billboards stand forth
from roadsides and the gables of large buildings
suggesting how our flesh and blood can fill things
and can fuck things, and all they can’t afford.
The river gleams
and winds its way through these diverse arrangements
beneath the cloudless heavens — strange, immense;
and the houses come forth in the sun's wide beams.
The day unfolds
and I explain what I know to my son.
News print is swirled and swept off at a run
along the path; the brown leaves move in shoals.
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