somewhere near charlottsville


SOMEWHERE NEAR CHARLOTTESVILLE





he tasted the tragedy

of his tongue, in the coffin

of Monticello



for want of imagination

in the mortality of his words,

he shuddered, he quaked, he cringed



thinking no more no less

his properties personified in heirs

wearing his lurid face



should, when God in justice comes,

should make him a slave unique

in an autobiographical noose



no less no more is his story

our comedy of belief.



Jerry W. Ward, Jr.            1/17/2020 10:54:42 AM

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