The world trade center
Boop! 88th floor! Step out onto a carnival
In stalls up and down the floor, merchants hawk their wares
There are fabrics from India, spices from Curacao,
Explosives from Afghanistan, daishikis from Africa,
Cicadas from China, Naphtha from Arabia,
Only 18 shekels for some delicious mangos and a whole side of yak
Yak futures are blinking up — the traders, with their headgear,
Stare at the monitors...all fall silent. Then Greenspan comes on
And tells people not to worry about yak futures. The room EXPLODES
In frenzied activity. The children, who are not the butchers,
Play in the shadow of the fountain. Oh, look —
Out the window, an airplane is approaching. You can see the pedalers.
There's a man in the cockpit hitting a large drum with a mallet.
With a cheeky dip of the wings, they veer off between the towers,
Heading for the Algae Islands.