making peace

the old emperor isn’t necessarily evil
he only hurts us when there is no other recourse
to chastise the unruly and to maintain order
the going rate brings the order within his grasp

the lawns are neat the thoroughfares straight
scrubbed bone-white and lined with cypresses
and the court falconers will soon succeed
in their effort to keep the pigeons in formations

remember delia how desperate we were
having lost each other at the war-torn train station
augustus has put a stop to mishaps like that
human folly is fleeting but the order endures
now that you are a cypress i always know
where to find you should steel clang again

in a state where not a single life is wasted
every citizen can aspire to a tiny monument
in his miniature memorial garden they say
the halogen sun is never eclipsed over it
we are his dream come true he must be dead tired by now
yet what glory it would be to watch the pigeons
marching abreast in such a peaceful space