what a block of hope what akleptomaniac what a thief of lifeI am

and the whole apparition onlyever known backwards already toolate now almost gone

And so he goes on dwindling awaymaybe through too much prayeris now too rarefied to touchor settle anywhere

and I who live in the basementone level down from the world

this is the the sound this is the very floorwhere Grief and his Wife are livinglooking up

6 a.m. scrabbling at the earth

breaking out of their mass grave

and then (as if a lock had gone and the Spring had broken loose)

not looking up but lost in pause