::: Bath :::
the city is built within seven hills
I live on the toenails of one
it hurt so I couldn’t breathe
as rain spattered my plate glass chest
I wondered at the ancients who chose
why bathe in so many clouds?
under the eyes of others’ gods
will a helmet keep you dry when
gallows god calls out the storm
but you loved your dignity
sacrifice buried at the crossroads
throat smiling with bloody despair