The sky was the color of laundry water
It extended, curving, through the horizon
Past the plane of the ecliptic.
I dreamed that I could control its color by force of will.
"Now it is slate blue, now
Dark sea green, the color of
Sunlight refracted through 200 feet
There was a fog of civilization which dripped
From buildings onto the air,
Giving it a musty, dark taste
Like air in a nursing home.
Underneath the sand swept streets
Glass fibers connected disparate parts of the world
Though no one was listening
To the cacophony at the end of the connection.
They still desired to kill one another
And the sky was still the color of laundry water.