Sculpted in death, models on display,
this mute cast shows how it was to die.
The terror they knew is engraved on their faces,
their prayers canceled in a pyroclastic flow.
...
Green and yellow
apple orange
this is the way to the funny farm
where people work from break of dawn
...
evenings the bums sat around
talking the poetry of life
dirty blue-fringed words
hands cracked cold before the fire
...
We entered through the narrow fjord,
emerald-sloped and glittering
with a silvery gleam
where once sailed Viking hordes,
...
You were there at the beginning.
You saw the seed expand.
You saw the rivers of blood,
the rise of man.
...
Poor kids,
why do you hang
to the branches
of these barren, campus trees?
...
You thought you couldn’t ride your bicycle
Without him.
You were always looking behind
To make sure he was holding on.
...