Done In Our Name

	I should have known we'd killed him
	Tuesday morning.
	I woke up strangely buoyant, whisteling a song
	As when I bent over the dictionary's c's boldface, at the corner, there to catch my eye, were corpse candle, cauterize and condemnation, cyanide
	I should have known then we'd killed him should have sensed the huge organism's sly joy, cat's paw
	Batting at his eye, in the chamber, out again cranky machinery of revenge grinding to and fro in the night in our name.
	One headline read "REPRIEVE" and just a block away another edition shouted "EXECUTED."
	It was done in our name.
	All our hands on the wheel that sealed him in the tomb.
	All our ears echoing with it's metallic clang.
	We all find ourselves murderers now participate in his death, no - even more than that
	We take part in his crime.
	Others are saddened, diminished or angry.
	But once it's done the clock has turned.
	It doesn't matter what we said.
	A man, a boy, is dead.
	It was done in the dark
	Tuesday morning in our name and all our hands