Hole star crack shatter in the mirrored glass
lights dimmed but not as mourning music still
plays as it played when he came into kill
not dance but reap with gun the living grass
young men and women mixed black brown and white
who breathed and danced and suddenly they bled
who lived and laughed until he left them dead
their pride love lasting more than that last night.
And when men came to wash the blood away
friends loves and parents love wailed like a choir
a hundred ringing phones. Killed for desire
concern past death. They will not fade to gray
in memory but speak. ' It was not fair
that I should die in pain for being there.'