Wednesday, September 11, 2002

Ladder 118

How will DNA tell us
whose hand grasped axe to free trapped
clerks in elevator shafts—
or which hand steered fatal jet
 
Or whose feet bore the weight of
boots, belt, air tank and helmet
up and down flights of stairs and
into the lighted pyre.

Will the DNA tell us
who loved to dance, though he danced
badly—Or which plotted to
undo dancer in mid-dance—

Or who, could he speak once more,
would surely ask, “May I have
the next dance?”


[link via they of small verdant pigskins.]

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