Erasure (Revised)

 

Stay a month longer, Jin-dynastied sun…
Too eager you signed unfounding breath.
Greeting came carcass-gifted,
Calamitous cause leaves unsaid?

Enlighten then your parapeted subjects:
Sixty-thousand they stand, suicide-shawled.
Where erred veneration,
When fell celebration?
The horsed horde at our gates know not love
(Their language lacks the rhyme).

At those hands 
Are we to be skull-split,
Rent from family and form,
Rent for silver and sex?

False prophet!
It cannot be!
And so.

Your claims I disavow, your shapes I abnegate.
To my disciples I say only

                 Jump

Adopt, in final moment,
The butterfly’s art.

 

 

I often (re)write poems. A dramatized re-telling of the original.

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