The gaoler
owes the prisoner
the prisoner
pays in blood

the bull
is at the old cow's
rooting for
her cud

the bully smells
the boy's white fear
while Jesus
turns his cheek

the burden
of omnipotence
renders Caesar

a man I knew
cut off his ear
a trinket
for some whore

his mind adrift
on turpentine
far from shore

I cannot yet
begin to stop
this breathing
in my heart

I wish you only
simple things
and thus we two
must part

do not in fields
of my flood
hold on long
to this name

but cast it
as a silent spell
to not be said