End of the Century, 1984
Death Synthetic winds have blown awayMaterial dust, but this one roomRebukes the constant violet rayAnd dustless sheds a dusty gloom.Wrecked on the outmoded pastLie North and Hillard, Virgil, Horace,Shakespeare’s bones…
Death Synthetic winds have blown awayMaterial dust, but this one roomRebukes the constant violet rayAnd dustless sheds a dusty gloom.Wrecked on the outmoded pastLie North and Hillard, Virgil, Horace,Shakespeare’s bones…
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tower726
…. but i would pay taxbecause i believe that hospitals and educationand the arts should be publicly fundedeven this poemwhen i look at you, my eyes are two identical neighborhood…
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this poem makes me think about how every year in the history of the world is a pivotal year and how quickly we forget all the monumental things that happen…