Such music must miss old requiem’s mold;
Harps are at thumbs here in these realms of stone—
Their sound would only increase the unknown
Of a poet’s name spelled out so threshold.
Gold measures our life sift in patient grams,
Numbering more graves aloft to obscure
The briefly shared poem where mourners endure
Their despair encore for whatever crams
Ten-digit verse. And yet whose plot lingers
Less? The terminal insistence of its
Limits to lament mislimns us loathed with
Any spitgrace traced after by fingers
Carving still-loom some epitaph that splits
No hushment held if this off rhyme reads: death.
/
Any spitgrace traced random by fingers
/Any spitgrace traced quantum by fingers
/Any spitgrace seldom [rarely/often/?] traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace aftertraced by fingers
/Any spitgrace traced after by fingers
/Any spitgrace maybe[perhaps/always] traced by fingers[,]
Any sculptured spitgrace traced by fingers
/Any chiseled spitgrace traced by fingers
/Any engraved spitgrace traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace perhaps traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace wouldbe traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace shame has traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace proclaimed/traced by fingers
/
Gold numbers our life sift in patient grams,
Which grift grander graves aloft to obscure
/
Grifting grander[greater] graves aloft to obscure
That briefly shared [patch?] where mourners endure
Their despair encore for each poem that crams
/
That brief interment where mourners endure
That briefly spared space where mourners endure
Each brief interment
/
Gold numbers our life sift in patient grams
Which grift grander graves aloft to obscure
The briefly shared poem where mourners endure
Their despair encore for whatever crams
Whatever brief clearing/hearing mourners endure
Their despair encore for that poem that crams
/A brief interment where mourners endure
/Briefer interments where mourners endure
/
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
Spotplotch burials where mourners endure
Despair encore for whatever poem crams
/
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
His poor interment where mourners endure
/
Gold numbers our life sift in patient grams,
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
Each brief interment where mourners endure
Despair encore for whatever poem crams
/One briefly shared patch where mourners endure
Their despair encore for each poem that crams
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