POEMS FOR NOONE  

Stinkroom

After we had penetrated the stink room
where thoughts are hobbled on a scintillating square
                 of light and air;

we saw we had judged too harshly and asked the Earth to forgive us
And give back the life we had given to cruel instruments; "let us dance
a little jig on the sunlit lawn," and so we did. 

And a man came through the open gate to tell us the dimension of Mars
And the women came and circled our sorry bodies with the air of intoxicant.

We danced deep into the night of their forgiveness.