A poem by alum John Minczeski (poetry, ’90) appears at The New Yorker:
The martyr does not die. He lives to create more like him.
The conscience lives behind an anonymous window
In tangletown. It is difficult to find the right one.
You call and call and there is no answer. But never
A busy signal. The martyrs climb one side
Of a mountain and descend the other. It is a world
Full of dangers, hidden crevasses, avalanches,