aayoungthe ides of march
blasphemous in your breath
scourge of the julian year
you have bloodied the men i love
for ten thousand moons
this thirteenth year into the new century
finds me shattering the clock
for glass with which
to cut you first
i have become
cleopatra upon her litter
exiled
carried aloft in a bed built for an inconvenient queen
above the melded glass sands of blood and grain
desert winds my howling comfort
cast out by a tyrant brother
ptolemy’s thirteenth incarnation
each generation more of a reason
he must die in the nile
little husband
and his geldings
i am chained by the ankle for you
to this land
these people
we are egypt
through my opium haze
i see my blessed alexandria
and pray before jackal headed gods
to return me from this death
my eyes follow the light
of the marble watch tower
emanating from the isle of pharos
ancient port
deliver me guidance and knowing papyrus
so that i may find my way
to the great whore mother streets
her libraries
and temples built
i shall seduce caesar and his army
if the gods make it so
resurrect the statue of me