To C West
Standing redundant
in an echoing wind,
renewing your vanity
with deference to all
At home on the fringes
where truth is an orphan,
you line up your enemies
canons shot at the wall
A general of
a malingering army,
whose entitled thinkers
lay truth in the grave
The devil is calling
his pulpit awaits you,
the olive branch hollow
—your memory enslaved
(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: November, 2020)
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