DARK
Oh, what a burden you wear
my Prince of shadow
hard not to think of you
head-to-toe in black
the state
is a lie
your castle
is death
your family
a prison
and behind this sweet tragedy
what writer has
contrived
to conceal what
might be
close to this bone
this sepulcher of a stage
littered
with all we have
come to hate and love
and thus History arriving
(as it tends to) with
an army
new flags, iconography,
presence of dawn
this the
poet knows, indeed
seems steeped in, riddled
with it
something here
so consummately dark.
poems 2 die for 