Marci Payne

wrapped in ivy sheets
and the silence offered by
quarter til five in the morning
i hear you rise from a bed
on the other side of the city
you’re barefoot
tighty whitey clad
staring at a phone and a computer
looking for me
both of us too stubborn to relent
jesus we’re irish
with our nun chucks
hating how much we love each other
with guilded age enthusiasm
we attended the world’s fair together
in 1893
forget my indian girl hair
falling over your face
and
i’ll forget the way
you sang to me
sweet louis
ignorant king
how crooked
is your manhood
to abolish any notion of you
amidst the terror
of your creation
we shall adopt
the republican calendar
within it
our july
becomes thermidor
no longer honoring the memory
of the fallen caesar
it is a time to destroy
superstition and fanaticism
know marie
never uttered a single word
about cake
creating a little napoleon
we eat the fire inside marat’s heart
three
ten-day weeks
choosing to annihilate
the existence of sunday
soon the people will forget
they ever had a religion to lose
controlling gods create common enemies
robespierre shan’t keep your head
from the national razor
we cannot save ourselves
from the undying urge
to be dying humans