They had visions, dreams of modernity.
A land of electricity and efficiency.
Cold concrete towering over small lives
About busy purposeful progress in streets
So far below. Like insignificant creatures
Of some nest crawling about the earth
For purposes they do not know and queens
They slave for but never see. In order
To keep the busy nest keeping on
For no other purpose than itself.
A slavery of motion and working
For no other reason than industry
And the dignity of labouring on.