1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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