No stopping.
I waited for silence and never began.
The trick: a quick quip,
and off you go sailing
in your own sounds
there you lie dreaming
sound sleeping
lying
through your teeth
snoring
in the frost
while avalanches of snow
cover the bomb dust.

Next year's melt will then uncover
the man-made
plane dispersed
depleted
uranium

I do not hope for a future 
that understands
I hope for one confounded
by our present mischief
and one
that sets the past world to right
in one "I've had enough"
no messing gesture.
 

24/12/01