A Dress Rehearsal for the Apocalypse

        for Miklós Radnóti

When all the players show up late and no one
can find the accoutrements of elegy,
and even Time saunters his way backstage
while I help History dress like a pilgrim,
despite his protests, and place him left of center—
the side of the road—where he pilfers the poor
saps like myself who believe there is no pity