Out of the ordinary way Where death like a policeman stands At the junction of all that is wrong White gloves on eternal hands The toll of the bell hurt my ears The chime of the clock laid me low Maybe I'd been there before But the mind was too weakened to know Invisible to pedestrian eyes I looked to the street with the sun Horses turned into machines All I had known became one To the four quarters of the earth The traffic sped by without pause Everything in life I had done Effected only the cause The seasons benign and defunct The fountain of youth ran dry I crawled on my hands and my knees Unable to live or to die.