devices are working but worthless,
combined in a compilation, a pile,
a towering monolith, a phallus,
a message to america of complication
and harmony in work and spending dollars
on air time, channeled through a tunnel underground
where workers plough through layers of lode
and lay wires to connect and separate those above,
way up above in the open air;
time rolled in negative layers, concern
for Friday's arrival and checks locked
at the back door constantly guarded,
and waiting on break, sitting with a stare
over heads and beyond resounding voices.