Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
…

he walks

with his hands on his head

he walks

easy and slow

and he walks

I watch and I wonder

what piece of the heart

let him do what he did

his name is Kyle

his T-shirt is green

he looks like a Kyle

he wears sneakers and jeans

he walks

he walks toward police

he walks like a boy

with popcorn and Coke

going back to his seat…