We broke the bonds that held you, Iapeto,
Beneath bleacher bench seats
We loosed your many thousand years
Of pain and pent up rage,
To show you what we made
With that coal you carried, long ago,
In your fennel cane.
Slowly, we worked,
Worked to show you,
To honor the coal you carried,
The light in dark you brought us, Iapeto.
Daily, we worked, across the generations,
We worked while the eagle tore your living bowels from you,
We broke the bonds beneath a football field,
And now the eagle, hungry these sixty years,
cries in the night for you,
Screams for the salt of your blood,
The warmth of your flesh, Iapeto.