The Wall in Iraq

The deepest past’s mere meters down...

Bucolic III

Gentle, the fields, slowly, eating the bones,/Blood drinking, men upon them, new, compete,/Goat bone, sheep blood too, gently now and slow...

For God and Crusty

What can the nationalist reply/When reptile naturalists imply/That even mighty Urland’s glory,/Like a mite, is transitory?...

words

words/echo with the ghosts/of almost wholly-lost/worlds...

Ludwig

Before the battle,/The mad, killing throttle,/Brutus and Horace perused Aristotle...