The only place for this is here,
where vintage plumbums inkling
at a ridiculous price for what
you threw out, paid to have
hauled off, to the ground sea.
Established then when demur
removes memory, and in place
restores smell, sound, touch in
a space without echoes, and no
logos, and especially no pathos.
Argument’s end finally comes.
No parade, no waves, not a lick
of fanfare. No cause to celebrate.
No reason to continue, no
purpose in saving this or these.