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Earthworks A thin covering of sickly grass. The coffee plantation, atrophied. No trophies. The town clerk with his papery mortgages (in his desk drawer a mouse fingers the testimonials). Or the dish well-nigh balanced by the cornfield, near the corn-belt, that was habitually empty? Is there a remedy? Equipment should be arriving soon to remove the icebergs from the Barrens, the pebbles along with flakes of snow into the further seams. Lawsuits will be melting next to the Grand Design. Felled trunks and uprooted families leave spittle at the base of the new towers. There has arisen a new, disorderly vegetation between patches of dead ground. Whereas, the original character of the mountain-world was a ballet of mineral witnesses before the manifest herbal presence of, say, marjoram. A survey shows the sky was undependable. Oh well, you can't look back. You can, buta wretched entanglement of half-hearted treesno company ever went from them unthankfula scent, a drizzle, the disgarnished plateau. 216 ...

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