you called me pops, the end was in sight.
when you announced
you had to get some people
out of your
life,
you were gazing at your
self in the mirror
festering
rage.
you launched an
inquisition to confirm your
righteousness, & like St.
Just, condemned these
shadows to the dreary
cart, dreadful cobblestones &
hell.
our friendship, drained of
blood. hands fixed behind.
is made to bow in horrified
humility.
you turn your heart
and the blade
falls.
my astonished head.
the wicker basket.
face DOWN.