Sometimes you see plaster
falling from heads.
The facade of reason peeling away.

History again.
Why return to it
since everything is ahead of us anyway.
It is done. Cannot be undone.

I sit beneath any old sky
and listen to what mediocrity has to say.

In prayer books
a bookmark advertising
anti-wrinkle fowl.

From every nation you know that
Murderers can be wrung out.