View from a Cemetery

I paused alongside US Highway 1,
Having shortened my steps some miles before
At Quantico, or Fredericksburg, perhaps,
Somewhere, I recall, on the outposts of
That portion of Virginia occupied
By commuters without the wealth, or will,
To dwell at nights where they work in the day,
In the bureaus of good intentions;
Then hiked and hitched as far as the Potomac
To a bridge that bears George Mason's name
And all those realpolitikers seen
Passing on the right-hand lane.

There it lay: The metropole, terminus
Of all our tribute, the mighty city
Where patricians plot, and plebeians plead,
Where bread and circuses maintain the peace,
And Ecclesiasts speaking mysteries
Propitiate the god Economy.

The power and the glory do impress,
But much less than the multitudes, themselves
Impressed with the civic undertaking
They've all come to influence and abet.