the poem as
an MP3 file.
|This truth is like a sea that has no shore,
Chaos infinite in heart and mind:
That you should once have been, and are no more.
To me you are as lovely as before:
An agony no reason can endure,
You died because some drunken bastard bore
That I cannot your battered face restore;
We are all on a death march, numb and raw,
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.