Cassandra at the Door

Fish_drying

 

To hammer a nail straight

and quick with a few strikes

takes practice— to the point:

 

I stake myself on a cross,

a basic graph to plot

trends and sequences—

 

facts and numbers,

numbers and facts,

are so easily turned;

 

so, perhaps a story here

that can plant the horror

will suffice to save us:

 

Do you hear that? It is

coming. Martyrs laid

out like drying fish;

 

where distortions and lies

bend all matter to earth

a fetid stench rises.

 

In a hell so manifold,

your closest friends

will be devoured.

 

(June 16, 2018)

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