you sit in a pile of yourself
palming a stone painted with the face of
your goddess
there is no refuge to be found
upon the exsanguinating sands
of thapsus
an exile to a far off african nowhere
after your battle with caesar
the last of your elephants of war
has laid down to die
you proved yourself
less than a strict catonian
but a man of the republic
gather what is left of your legion
and make way to utica
enlist water for washing your psyche
and bread to feed your flesh
enjoy scipio’s tolerant spirit
the tyrant will be handled
in other ways
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4 replies on “send word from rome”
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Thank you, kindly, Mr. Harper.
The most powerful poem I have ever read. Juicy, bitchy, good. I weep for the elephants. Save the bread for the stable lad and just fall on your own sword.!
Deep, dirty funny. Well done.
You, sir, are missing the point. The desire of the poet is for Cato to not fall on his historical sword…to survive despite the bleakness. To not subscribe to the notion of a noble death…it is a plea to stop time.