And fed like kings on abalone and oysters,
Stands this gleaming monument to modernity and mass production.
Drinking imported coffee from an imported cup
I gaze out plate glass windows at the bay,
Stripped of mud flats,
Ringed by freeways,
Mechanized.
Women combed through the cattails,
Filling their baskets with unimaginable bounty.
I hear their chiming laughter as I deposit my tray in the waiting receptacle
And start shopping.
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