the day they shot the poet

the day they shot the poet

they deported

the last disposition of a poet

that would have told tomorrow

of today of how it died

in all the brutality of suddenly

they have shot tomorrow today

and hearts unrelated to this

cry 

for the poet as a person

who wrote and wrote

but will never do so again

we say never again

again and again they shoot never again

so that they may think they own today

but death has folded the list 

of their wrong doings 

it is lodged in too many hearts to be extirpated

for who will deliver their mail 

or deliver their take-aways

and of course the poem 

full of their just desserts