Epitaph for
The lost poem
Which contained
And nothing.
Touched everyone, anyone
Who desired
The mystery of mysteries
Words of words, which brought forth
Both blessed & cursed us
Married us, buried us and parted
The heavens and the
Deep blue seas
Made Houdini disappear
And broke the sole of
Khrushchev’s soul
Shot Kennedy
And then shot a rocket
To the moon
Sold us, indiscriminate
Commanded us to war and glory
And holocaust – unimagined imagination
The scavengers & architects, history
Fighting for space apocalyptic
Down on Wall Street and in the Silicone Valley
Stages of poetry and stages
Of time living, breathing & dying
On the battlefields
Of life.
The Poem,
Too early
Too late
Too bad
The lost poem
Which contained
Nothing and everything
Everything and nothing
At all.
You left it home on the
Kitchen table where your children
Drew on it
In crayon
It is just as well.

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