"They walk in circles.
Correct. Circles.
I don’t make this stuff up.
Circles they trailed the ground,
silk fins mistaken for worsted wool wings:
I’ll bet anything I saw them with my own eyes.
They trailed terra firma, nipples exposed to diseases:
flying gout, embezzlement, decapitated love affairs,
bones organizing themselves into full skeletons
or purposes hitherto unknown,
while our collective unconsciousness disappeared into black holes of boredom."
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The text is about modern society, how people present themselves as
being aware, accomplished, sophisticated,
but underneath the surface, they are lost, broken and empty.
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“These balloons represent people that are observing us."