Looking through an orbital way

Where roads connect, where a strange horizon is gazed at.
A familiar path is found in an extract of a book that’s found at a LANDSCAPE.
In an urban city, urban species appear from the dark pole of our subconscious.
People stare at clocks, rush in, rush out.
Charles began to notice some flaws on his moustache, Diana as flaws in her stockings.
Peter stares for a long time at an unclean fellow that passes in front of him, huge beard, stinks beer all over, covered with a few rags in stripes, this is an It; he thinks.
Fellow belongs there; Peter is on its way, towards wisdom.
Two woman pass upon a mutilated men, poor sob, look at it, strange it is this fellow has nothing to live, but still manages it, give him a quarter, says Charles.
Emma and Alice are her names, they’ve terrific clothes, their hair is long with ribbons.
The ragman, tries to find Ourobouros, reads Anton Wilson, and picture on his mind Doré’s paintings.
Charles visits his golf buds, Peter talks with an old friend from high society, that has finished his studies in Economy.
The small talk unravels:
Peter: Have you noticed the crash on dollar today?!
Friend: It’ll be better, look at the sales, figure the market, we’ve to reduce costs, to achieve prosperous markets.
Peter: I’ll agree with you, one must value everything, a cent’s a cent; right?!!!
Charles: I’ve bought new golf cubs, they’re great, long distance ones.
The bearded men thinks upon the writings of Huxley, tries to put some bread at his mouth, tries to collect cans and old newspapers, while beneath a cloud, a smile appears and he knows that whatever is done, he isn’t alone.