were about the past or the process of writing ("Sometimes you write poetry about poetry /you can't help yourself /your fingers stray down there where there is still feeling"). Recent poems, though, have a subtle air of prophecy:
First you have to end it
if you want to begin. rain before the clouds and the exit
is where the subway enters.
The judge who sentences us is smiling.
He knows a crime is uncommitted.
After his judgment.
I left. So our tears will flow to no subject or object.
from Poetry Foundation: In Memoriam: Landis Everson, 1926-2007
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