80.

“In these tunnels, each one of you
Has told a fine lie. In this underworld,
Each of you boasted a fantasy feat.
But I am a prophet, I am an oracle.”

“These wilted flowers are for you,
Sister, brother, daughter, son. You
carry the weight of that malicious lie.
I offer you these twice-rotten fruits.”

81.

“I have tagged every wall of this city
with my broken poetry. From alley to
mountain, my words have danced
with half-rhyme and inane reason.”

“Time must be held back. Each one of
you will turn the wheel and reel in
these worst instincts. I give you this
chance to make amends with God.”