On Forgiveness
It’s a simpler matter when you’ve known
The feeling of bringing nations of men to their knees.
When you’ve emptied entire nurseries of firstborns;
Fed years to the locusts, then locusts to the lips of John—
Carcasses of the surplus scuttling across desert
Sand like chambermaids in David’s castle.
I too could cast a man’s deeds into the Sea
Of Sin No More; drop stones like roses at his feet.
Power makes one gracious. Power makes one
Easy. Even Lionel could rise from his bed
Of charms unharmed; Al would never learn
To loathe the smell of grits like burning flesh.
Yes, I’d lay down the knife and wipe my eyes
As if I were slicing onions for a meal;
Dance daintily across a kitchen floor
To the tune of “Let’s Stay Together.” No,
I would not begrudge my lover’s trip to Damascus
If I could blind him on his way there.
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