Here you will find the Poem Fugue of poet Howard Nemerov
You see them vanish in their speeding cars, The many people hastening through the world, And wonder what they would have done before This time of time speed distance, random streams Of molecules hastened by what rising heat? Was there never a world where people just sat still? Yet they might be all of them contemplatives Of a timeless now, drivers and passengers In the moving cars all facing to the front Which is the future, which is destiny, Which is desire and desire's end - What are they doing but just sitting still? And still at speed they fly away, as still As the road paid out beneath them as it flows Moment by moment into the mirrored past; They spread in their wake the parading fields of food, The windowless works where who is making what, The grey towns where the wishes and the fears are done.