Lorca And The Firing Squad

Did he have a poem in mind

when he stood against that wall?

Did the killjoys know who he was?

Were they just waiting for breakfast?

They took him out at dawn

like characters from Kafka…

like taking out the garbage…

like Chinese troops

ransacking monasteries…

this beautiful man, this treasure,

they took him out in the dull light,

these dull men, and shot him…

and went back to playing cards.