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of sons to be set
loose against a world unsuspecting their
violence to conquer with the hardened
steel edges of surnames: I and my brothers
against my cousins, I and
my brothers and my
cousins against the world.

They longbow, long-shaft bodkins;
their fletchings the fast-flying mane
of Bucephalus as he tramples
Persian Immortals under
strong shanks and forearms
to crush with hock and girth;
to gallop indefatigable;
to gallop to the ends
of the world to the outer seas; to gallop
indefatigable to unfurl
a banner which reads:
“Fool sons to trouble mothers.”
The wise

disarm, the wise restore the shambled
world (bloodlines—serein
—which stipple
all things red), tender transfusions
of joy.


First published in Chapter Seven of Anemone Sidecar (2010)

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