OH wonderful machine, so self-sufficient, so sufficient
unto yourself!
You
who have no feeling of the moon as she changes her
quarters!
You who
don’t hear the sea’s uneasiness!
You to whom the sun is merely something that
makes the
thermometer rise!
Oh
wonderful machine, you are man’s idea of godliness,
you who feel nothing, who know
nothing, who run on absolved
from any other connection!
Oh you godly and smooth
machine, spinning on in your own
Nirvana,
turning the blue wheels of your own
heaven
almighty
machine
how is it
you have to be looked after by some knock-kneed wretch
at two pounds a
week?
Oh great god of the machine
what lousy archangels and angels you have to
surround yourself with!
And you can’t possibly do without
them!