May. 03, 2005,20:45
But A Whimper
we hold the future
in deadly palms
in deadly palms
deteriorating infastructure
will sing our psalms
wipe away, gently
with red buttons pressed
and clean our elipse
in hot white-heat dress
you can pray for tomorrow
but we all know the tune
when that last trump sounds
we will breathe no more doom