Revolution makes normal the unthinkable. Folly reigns; darkness is upon the face of society. Over this confusion the spirit of god moves like marshlight, like a bird all wings.
They are trying the old rulers in the cathedrals of the underpasses. They sit on bollards, on broken dividers, perch on stanchions, shoulders pressed together in the dovecote of the beams. The spirit of god comes to them all at once and separately and whispers in their ears. They speak prophecy, and the dissolution of barriers, of fierce egalitarianism. Language dissolves, continually reforms, tongue of Babel. Nouns lose their gender or change it; words may mean anything but what they do.
From beyond their borders, the stable world watches, in anger and in fear, Lucifer raging against the new creation.
Garbage in the streets, and an all-volunteer army sweeping them clean again. They break into empty buildings and create bedrooms, living rooms, water closets. No plans are on file with the city. They grow like coral, in all directions, waiting for the tide to change.