A person hurries
To give the machine
Not only work,
But thinking as well.
The REQUESTS of civilization
Are swift and unceasing,
As they can, they shorten
Toward the goal of chronology.

We complain,
For behind the machine
We cannot keep up.
Even now
It hears us
And its own creator
It plans to trample.

We have trampled,
And they will trample us too.
Have we driven God out?
Then no offense taken.