There are rumors
Spiked by moonshine
Privilege or disgrace
Oppression spells her full name
For the Zweig suicide guest book
A librato place
No-one can follow
Without revealing their intention 
Take comfort
From people who do not care
They lacquer their unteathering 
In pretty boxes with false bases
As Houdini shone the key beneath the deep
So they perfect stillness in powdered sugar
Salvaging nothing of the wreck
As salt stained and barnacled
Driftwood is recovered by shore
Ebbing with lessening