17

You remind me of an abusive husband,

With friends in polished police cars.

You hide behind silk ties,

And lecture endlessly about the trials of marriage.

The woman who has terrorized your home,

Your city,

The world.

Even as you hammer needles into her brain,

Your cameras rush to capture the epileptic scene.

Who can resist this medieval scheme?

Even as you bury her children,

In the basements of indifferent cafes,

Your friends rush to smudge the evidence.

Your crime becomes her infanticide,

Your highway becomes her maze.

But the deranged witch you wanted us all to burn,

With flames dedicated from Persepolis,

And pine flown in from Perm,

Is now a cult breeding inside your ears.

At night you soak in the thumping,

At noon you wake up to squalls.

The woman you have stripped from everything,

Is now crawling beneath your walls.

*

Copyright 2019