A circular staircase rickety and thin,
Turning back upon itself; containing,
Scattered on its treads,
The mud and butt-ends of indifferent multitudes.
It is an edifice built with
Frenzy and broken heads
By a few, laboring in midst of
Others who stand aside and cry
Oh God! Save us!
It is the scarred passage left behind
By those who have passed upward to the