Wyatt Underwood

knife fighter

he carried his knife point up into the fight

the better to brandish near your face

the better to threaten your gut

the better to make you fear

he did not know berserker lore

only knew making opponents sweat or piss

and learned nothing when Olson stomped on his hand

just waited and exercised to heal

then carried his knife point up into the fight

and ended his life face in the mud

his knife point up deep in his butt

teacher

he wagged his finger into the air

as if to point up geometric truth

he tried so hard to make students admire

what we had learned from the Greeks

but boys heard about swords and spears

and girls heard about how cloth draped

they came back to celebrate his retiring

or to let him know they remembered

he smiled and he smiled and declined to wag

his finger pointed up still wishing to make

them finally get his intent

pointless

for years, he tried to point up the dangers

of what we did, where it took us

he might as well have been named Cassandra

people listened and nodded, listened and smiled

but nobody acted, not even him

the planets rolled 'round in their orbits

the moon cycled through phases unending

til one day there we were, air thick with poison

children being born with strange shapes and weak bones

and another war looming, no one knew why

the ancient man wept and stared at the sky

which barely showed comets or stars anymore