COOL TOMBS
When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs,
he forgot the copperheads and the assassin ... in
the dust, in the cool tombs.
And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall
Street, cash and collateral turned ashes ... in
the dust, in the cool tombs.
Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw
in November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder?
does she remember? ... in the dust, in the cool
tombs?
Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries,
cheering a hero or throwing confetti and
blowing tin horns ... tell me if the lovers are
losers ... tell me if any get more than the
lovers ... in the dust ... in the cool tombs.