Lincoln sits splayed in his pew
as clergy weep teargas tears –
they retreat from his chancel of
greeting air – sundered nearby –
[quick] flash grenades/ He does
not turn his head [he cannot] as
cries multiply [he’ll listen for old
axioms]/ Truth will fade too fast
if screamed too loudly – our first
rule of pluralism/ Instead recite
Yeats [often read after troubles]
& we may appreciate thinking &
art – we may take time out to sit
& win – without violent thoughts
[without violence]/ No holes will
be left to widen – to swallow lies
