We can do nothing - it's our humus -
Pulvis et umbra sumus
Whatever happens -
Dust - ash - dust -
Something else in the park
Of the withered humanity
Where Lenten ghosts look
For their Easter Eve
Having lots of Wednesdays -
Lots of Fridays -
Not many Sundays
And windmills to tilt at -
The dragon eats the king's
Daughter - the witch of
Endor conjures up her
Spirit - the demon tempts
The faint - the saint - the priest
Sprinkles absinthe on the
Corpse's forehead -
Absinthe - essence of absence -
Presence at last -
(Léon Bertoletti, At Last)
