"You warn people who are about to die!"
he told me as though I were an idiot.
I may be, bald and issuing a silent scream
across a Nerdrum bleakscape, a cape
of mangy fur draped over my exposed shoulder.
I gloat, however, too much to be that slave
who sat behind the General in his chariot
and issued mortal warnings to humility.
It is sin to take joy in puncturing another's hubris.
Yet it is folly not to find satisfaction in life's work...
No comments:
Post a Comment