It was red, which pleased him. Small
and hard, it fit in his palm

Now, in this blue room, we will give ourself
up, let the long siege go, like a fist

Mother, I love you. But with the dead
we drink differently, holding the cup
in the left hand, pouring the wine this way

"A god can do it"—yes. But a girl?
The Greeks named it hubris,

We buried the kids but the cops dug them up
cops dug them up, cops dug them up,

which is the snake
that feeds then starves us,

Why’d he do it? we asked. But we know why.

We beat wings.  We
fly rings.  We

The canvas is gone. The floor laid bare.
What is seen are remnants. No garments,
no adornments except the unfinished

The news reached me in Paris. Shadows in Paris.
Years later (in Paris) I would recall the scene