19
    For an Inscription over the Entrance to a Subway Station
This is the gift of Hephaestus, the artificer,
the god men say is lame.

20
In steel clouds
to the sound of thunder
like the ancient gods:
our sky, cement;
the earth, cement;
our trees, steel;
instead of sunshine,
a light that has no twilight,
neither morning nor evening,
only noon.

Coming up the subway stairs, I thought the moon
only another street-light—
a little crooked.