If I decided to go to the corner store wrapped up
It was a decision converted into the walk taken.
Pinning from the executions, I walked to beat the rain
Promised in the change of pressure, tattered clothes,
And in the sliding eastward of the blue-blue sky.
And in the time it took the crows did eat the tree,
In that the tree, swindled to a bare pocked thing
Was home to what crows ate that night as they
Clung to the pulp like many moths to a cool bright light.
The execution was over days ago, another land,
Another source for power to release itself
Throughout not just the land that held the dead bodies,
But throughout the world whose body accepted all.
The Baha’is were killed in the usual manner, perhaps
A bill for the bullets to the family outlawed as heretic:
Tic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic until the right time would put
A right king on the throne of Teheran. I’ll eat the crows all in a row,
And so will go the tree to make me more a man
And the more the crows had eaten, the more is me;
Hesitate not in the ether, before the scalpel sets
Behind the clouds and cuts a new horizon for
The next day whose take is all the gold in the world,
But must make the same cut and empty its hold
For the next day whose task is set before the hour.
If I shook and trembled the way I felt the people
Would run from me like the running from a metaphor
Made of images the like of which have not been cut;
Then if I were a diamond your dreams would be safe,
And no Minotaurs climbing through your upper neck.
So now my walk is over, and the bullets have been fired and the
Bodies buried and the Morse code gone- dot-dot-dot dash-dash-dash,
The crows descend with their dark red knot
Crying “What hath God wrought”.