Hopper never painted this, but here
on a snaky path his vision lingers:
three white tombs, robots with glassed-in faces
...
Rain hazes a street cart's green umbrella
but not its apples, heaped in paper cartons,
dry under cling film. The apple man,
...
Pardon us for uttering a handful
of words in any language, so cut loose
are we from homes, and from His name that is still
...