This has long been one of my favorite poems. Enjoy. The text is from Bartleby…
It is terribly Winter-like here– it is probably a good thing I don’t actually have to leave the house until later today. Driving home last night I could see the ghosts of accidents-past– guard rails that had been bent-in and knocked out altogether, slithering, wiggling tire tracks from cars possibly only a mile ahead of me on the road… I found myself driving by the sites of multiple accidents from this year, including the hill the mail truck slid down, right next to the Thruway.
How about we warm up with some Eliot?
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The Villain Diluvian 