history poetry

my uncle martin the 7 foot giant

rounded up 8 men

still bitter

about being forced away from his

english degree at the college of

William and Mary

and hung them from a gallows

above fishin’ creek

for being northern sympathizers

kicking a tree the size of god

from beneath their feet

as their wives and children watched

in horror lashed to a tree

and let me say

to the union

my bones are still sorry


literature relationship studied The British Royal Crown

god save the queen

this poem

just placed its fingers

to delicate collar bone

and looked at you in such a way

that only a woman who knows

her daddy was a well deposed king

may do

silently saying

were he not my father

i could love you