¡No Pasarán!

Fear and Loathing at Ground Zero

Poem concerning the structures soon to replace the WTC (I cannot find the title for this, perhaps someone can clue me in) Where is the twisted human torso? Where are the flames? Where is the smoke? What crossed fingers still dangle below These calm subterranean spaces? Should we not, here and now, make known the Inexplicable agony? Who among these Names leaped to their deaths? Who did not Have a chance to leap, scorched, crushed? Placid well-lit puddles of piddling light Confine the defiant. Monuments. Intended to mourn, feign empathy and Experience. Serene Ground Zero. Is this the scene searched in vain for remains? Each age has the art it deserves. Eugene Schlanger aka The Wall Street Poet