Hemispheres The environmentalist, a terminally conflicted poet, plunged down- wards eighty-six stories But before he fell, the words of his last- ditch, earth activist's lyric had echoed hollow in his head: "The world, like a single melon with a soft cyan rind, Its tender sial pitted under man's close'd mind To hack/slice the peel for mere precious vein's gleam Using no anaesthesia living flesh is demeaned. 'Neath tools of destruction The azure sphere screams; A cry o'er millennia going unheard, it seems..." Likewise no one heard his idealist splat as he took Fifth Avenue into his whirling embrace Donna Fox