
ON STAGE
5
Who heard at high noon
the knife’s hiss on the sharpening stone?
Who was the rider who came
with the kindling and the torch?
Everyone washes his hands
and freshens them up.
And who disembowelled the woman the baby and the house?
There is no one guilty smoke.
Who run away
with horseshoes striking the flagstones?
They did away with their eyes; they’re blind.
There are no witnesses anymore, to anything