INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY

  INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY
On observing the demolition of an
old school building over the course
of several weeks.

When the Grapplersaurs and Bulldozers
             Rex first set upon the old building,
   biting off great chunks of brick and
                 steel, such gaping wounds, I felt shocked,
      the violence and all, but then compassion
            took its turn once I found myself looking
at Berlin, c. 1945, oh I have seen the 

     newsreels, and my eyes began searching for starving 
             children amidst the rubble, crying out for a simple 
                 hunk of bread, but one weekend I returned
   like Columbus discovering a new land,
              wondering if I had somehow misread the 
       stars, and then awe became my only sense, to see
                      that site flattened to a perfect
    
Hiroshima scene, but really what I felt was scared,
       the wrecking ball a metaphor that 
                     confounded me, for in college I had read
       Intimations of Immortality, and here I saw 
    everything erased, a slate wiped so spotlessly
                clean, as I would one day be
erased, with no one the wiser, but in all
     
        this a saving grace, how surprised I was 
to see Featherland Farm re-appear for
              just a moment now, its fields leveled back
   to where trees still make their final stand,
               though soon to be erased again. Oh, I
          said to myself, finally understanding 
                 something of import, 
                                nothing lasts.


 October 12, 2004