rain on the via appia

i bend at last,
to the conquerors flag
and wash my face
with new fall’n tears.
canto XIV lucidus

from the ancient run,
echos and whispers
from a hidden pool.
pound filled his way
with antique allusions,
caged like a beast
in a pisan circus,
prisoner of apollo
and imperial wrath,
pulling cantos from the air,
in the furnace of a cage
in this august,
so desecrated land.

hecuba prostrate
before talthybius,
weeping for us all
falling from the throne of life
to the dust of eternity.
cassandra compelled
to speak the truth always,
and remain unbelieved always,
and hated for it always,
how you railed against it:
the crushing weight
of history,
the burning kiss
of the sun.
to the victor the spoils,
and the right to rewrite
history and the truth.
forth i go,
driven as a beast is driven.


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