all

thirty

this land's threadbare caste
silken persuasion—ever
reckoning bygone vows

father averred; how helpless
are you? you're of no bones
his sage ate my mother's heart
skinned it, then resumed harping
the sun? ashamed, behind the hill
his daughter? writing this late
abasing all to wraith—the saga
for a covenant:
hail, hail, hail

hail the muse of history!
(kill us again!)