Ghosts in the New World

“There are no ghosts in the new world,”
The immigrant beamed and said,
“Surely no ghosts in this new world,”
Haunted through my brimful head.

“Look at the buildings tall and straight,
They seemingly pierce the heavens,
Look at the sky blue and clear,
And the massive synthetic reflections.”

“Look at the men in suit and tie,
Who line the pavement with their feet,
Models of effective perfection
Hazel hair short, smart, and neat.”

“There are no ghosts in the new world,”
Again he smiled and said,
“For sure no ghosts in this new world,”
Haunted my fearful head.

But the buildings scorn the praise received
So sharp are they, and high,
The buildings care not for us as
They keenly bleed the sky.

The men are void and damaged things
Who fill themselves only with wealth,
Whose sole pity comes from God above,
Which explains their corporal health.

“There are no ghosts in the new world!”
His fellow finally replied,
“I see no ghosts in this new world!”
I at last warily lied.