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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