Outside the Knight Library, Brain-
Storming For History


I. A Record of Western Civilization

A Shushing Tree whispers at a gust of wind.
Together, they rush into dark as if  two charging
crusaders, aimless as infidel-knights toward the holy
jihad evening, which murdered day's one begotten sun.

Breezes stage-whisper to the other pliant trees,
joining wind's campaign to stoke the fire in their leaves.
Choruses line up single file on both sides, voices rumbling
the hollow body of the sleeping city, a wheezing resurrection

through victory horns, an ancient breath still blowing,
eeking out from a universal diaphragm, a last push of air,
time dragging by its fingernails, lungs closing on the final burst,
when ribcage sides cymbal-crash together, arms twitching at the cold.

II. The Warped Version of the Record

skinny sticks drag      like-the
record needle              leaves-on
those little lines        small-grooves
brushed into the       con-crete                           
twirling, through the      fog-sweat
beads chilled in the        lime-light
all them peeling        clothes-ON

                                                                                                             & OFF--
                                                                                                     scratching
                                                                                     a  cross
                                                                          into
                                                      our  ears,
                                  the  lesser
                  known
melodies
of  death