Dumpty's Fall
was not of folly, but of choice,
for saccharine safety on the higher ground
inside the wall
would cloy his sulpherous soul
and beating down his moble sacrifice
install a glutenous presumption
of a unity unworthy of him.
No, there must be cataclysm
in the leap, dragoons enlisted,
and a lamentation worthy of the feast...
the sighing tempered not by hominid
nor beast, but by a stubborn memory
of infant sleep,
beguiled by nothing more
than fragments in the grass.
~
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