guilty of not having courted doom directly
but merely toured its alleged precursors

to life in this country no one was invited
there is no again there there

a whole people getting out in their
potato famine why skin them

heirs of the castle full of ammo
eats a small world after all

they garnish Christ with xmas
synopsis for a new cartoon

saying grace with sloppy babysitters
there there in the spirit of abeyance

everyone’s trying to get back in hence
the search party wait wait not yet

some Saint sez you’ll never regain your billions
you get them when you’re born but only if you

slide through the tissue like a kid glove
not if you interrupt the chrysalis

Caesar my grand-famine yon salad days
I dipped my napkin in his sacred blood

way back when I forsook it all
barefoot in the colony of flora

just to get here of all places
named for a virtue by a battered child