Riding the train to Mall of America near Minneapolis. Fort Snelling National Cemetery lies East of the tracks. Outside the windows pass these gravestones. Stark marble markers in the place of heros. Rigid rank and file, monuments on parade in mimic  memory of the command to "Attention!"  

And there are thousands. Row after row, column upon column, they march into the distance

Until finally, I closed my eyes and listened to the rumble of the  train, wheels upon tracks, and to the conversion of a young family seated behind me as they talked about all the fun they will have at the mall. The Mall of America -- found out past the tombstones, beyond the graves of the fallen brave.

distance between our graves
spacious and airy—
leave our kids to sing
“vivere volumus permanere”

she wept near the grave of her father,
knees digging into the fresh dirt.
her tears watered the earth beneath
her limbs.
deep sobs escaped her throat.
her father stood near.
not yet enough energy to form
and apparition for his daughter--
maybe some day.

he could see others pacing beside
their graves--wandering.
with a slight tip of the hat
to another nearby soul
and a sigh towards his kin,
he vanished with a gust of wind.
she turned, rubbing her puffy eyes
wishing it were him.
disappointed, she lays down
on top of the soil, six feet between her
and the freshly departed.

When all the tombstones one day succumb and crumble away to dust
There will be Hope still left over, I trust
For all the dead souls who deserve not to be forgot
In a fair and just world there must

For all those darling celebrities who were lovely and hot
And worked tirelessly to be worshiped for something they were not
They toiled and twisted to be seen as the best of the best
Was all their admirable effort for naught?

And all those soldiers robbed of being old, who were laid to rest
To suffer together in a place of pain at someone else’s behest
Who chose to go to a place that we call inhumane
And then died with their wishes and dreams unexpressed

And for all those persons we see everyday
Who should not disappear, and deserve to have their stories be told
But truly to those that have pulled us from sorrow and shown us the way
And made our ordinary lives shine a hue of brilliant gold

I hope that one day dust will be forgotten as something to fear
And that high Heaven can come softly rest on the mortal sphere

What are we reaching for
Surface
Graves

Bite your tongue off
Produce no more screams
Melting away
Everlasting dreams
You ****** creature
Each word a mist
Spraying and spouting
Lies of the wrist
I have found no light for all is dead
Writing down terms of those who have said
Once before you’ve shown me light
Never again will I not fight
Break your bones
Grind them to powder
Wash them away
Seep and become prouder
You salt of the earth
What a delight
I see you near
No need for the fright