The Flag: A Pseudo-Prophetic Image of America
The other day I was driving and glimpsed out the window at some power-lines strung parallel to each other as well as parallel to the road, and in the brevity of the moment, the flicker-flash of the window-framed image seemed to me as though it were a wire skeleton of Old Glory, as if the American flag had been burned and only its outline, made of cables, remained. The form was fixed; and instead of substance, there was only space. Utter emptiness. Surface sans depth.
And I kept on driving.