the 'you' is further alienated into the third person 'he' and this self seems to have internalized this absurd world of disconnection. There are images of victimization in the 'trampling' process. The conscience of a blackened street trying to assume the proportion of a world is an inductive image where the drabness of the city is seen as a universal marker. There is a touch of a Christian relief in the image of an infinitely gentle and infinitely suffering thing but the image is evoked only to be unmade. Its salvation import is neutralized in the final image of old women trying to gather fuel in vacant lots. This is a somewhat absurd image that unveils the revolution of the world as a futile process, marked with the paradox of trying to make something from where there is nothing.