To dispose of an oath, as
the saying goes, I see only
the path in front of me,
feel only the fire of my
rage turn to sand beneath my
toes, an Ouroboric life whose serpent

bite which never heals over, whose
path goes in circles, wisdom frightens
with its enlightenment those few who
might be enticed to ignore its
allure, to give up feeding the
fight within, to govern those for

whom an anathemic anthem was composed
long ago, imploring the deaf to
know, the blind to read, the
enemies of memory to never forget
to remember strangers are messengers telling
you who you are, to take

heed that what you give is
itself a message, enough weight to
crush both the spirit and the
body, praying is changing language, begging
the question to pose in prose
repurposed as verse that rhetorical chorus

which goes: am I being sued
or am I being used? cosmic
law better suits those who pursue
justice through what inspiration makes them
do, creation is an act of
worship and retribution, invention changes mistaken

assumptions the way persuasive argument
assuages
threats of vengeance, tolerating being the
conduit takes from this task its
aching breaking down doing it a
solid causes, the Universe moves through
us with one purpose, onto someone

else if too reluctant to move
toward its objective, the course is
woven through imperfect moments, burdening with
its work those cursed to cure
others before its force returns to
reverse what hurts have worsened them.