Only after the disaster did it become apparent
how deeply we had burrowed down
into the system of our own lives.
The malls stretched on for miles.
And they were like Japanese girls from an opera,
truly, just like dolls,
clutching their bags and wrapped up in their shawls,
and all falling asleep at the same time on the train.
The tv channels spread out around us
like electric prairies,
but there were no real horses
and all the soil was gold.

Once the initial euphoria had passed
and we thought we had been saved,
it slowly dawned on us
that this was how we must end our days,
separated from the others,
furnishing our graves,
with no chance of surviving love,
lost in an undersea film,
left in waiting rooms to leaf through magazines
or to wander for years through a world of caves.

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