Buried Alive In A Grave For Pagan Gods [Today's News Poem, March 5, 2011]
'Shafted,' the veins call. Shafted in ore.
Shafted like oak trees they whittled to beams.
Abandon the forest, salvage the timber
Concealing—not God of the pagans, not Odin,
Nor the glory of mist on leaves in the morning—
Just a buttress to stave off the ruin of matter.
Stakes that were stabbed in the caverns, entropy unifies
Corpses, inertness, a profit, a loss, though it's purposeless.
"A priest has given last rites to a man who fell into an abandoned Nevada mine shaft so deep and treacherous that rescuers have abandoned efforts to reach him,"
—(AP), Mar 5, 2011 11:55 AM CST
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