Hello everyone
Having been lurking for a while, I thought I would introduce myself by
posting a poem. Feedback very welcome.
For those who don't get the reference, Varus was a Roman general who lost
three legions of soldiers in a terrible slaughter in the Tuetoberg Forest
near the Rhine, in part because he was betrayed by the Romansied German
prince Arminius.
All the best
Conor
Varus in the Boardroom
* *
Those are holes that were his eyes;
no light escapes that gravity.
Who was he yesterday? He can’t recall
what name it was, what knife, what hooves
murdered through his sleep.
Deep in the forest of his genes
he hears the vicious hail shredding leaves,
the crash of trees, the sodden tramp of men.
His numb ears catch
the first faint cries of slaughter.
*Arminius, my friend.* He grasps the table, dizzy.
The light here is fluorescent, impersonal.
He blinks and stares: the faces are the same.
In their dark radiance he knows
he is already worse than human:
axe-meat, alien, dead.
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