Full-voiced, thunderous
the voice of truth whispers

There was never nothing
Never, death in Raine's morgue

granted beauty
en terra firma--

Never, soldiers sprawled
like Fenton's bottles--

You object?
Yes, of course.

But still you drank the blood
while the dead soldiers piled up
surrounding your feet.

Never, the steadily advancing rhythm
of hands meeting, unintentionally
speeding up while their voices
intone faster and faster:

Miss Susie had a steamboat,
the steamboat had a bell.
Miss Susie went to heaven,
the steamboat went to -

He'll be fine they said
or at least well-read

And who knows?
Maybe he'll learn to bestow
aesthetics to evil.