there you stand
candle-head heavy
with the weight
of your crown.

drip drip
and the wax
falls.
drip-drop the sweat of your brow.

there you stand
candle-head bowed,
atlas
of your own design.

do you see him? do you see him?
and the wax
falls
like raindrops on stone ground.

o david
your eyes are proud
and you stoop
under the weight.

o david-god
my words ring
heavy
in your stone ears.

remember? remember?
harp-fingers blazed
free
as the flame

now smothered by
your crown of gold.
o david, david
your god game leaves you stiff.

remember? how we
walked bare-footed
in green grass
and glass-white dew.

remember, remember
and your heart
flutters
like a bird in flight.

pauper king, your crown sits
marble heavy on your
perfect
white brow.

david, david
how does it feel?
isn’t it hard to carry the whole
world?

The dead dead eyes of the dead men who
Guard the door
Clam-hands clasped
Welcome, welcome
With a skeletal smile that stretches the skin.

Wandering souls walk
To and fro, to and fro.
Idle chatter spills from their
Cracked
Dry lips.

They squawk like birds
In their neat,
Clean clothes.
They reek.

Welcome, welcome
And sit
On the King’s opulent throne
To gawk at the naked passerby
To follow with a jade eye.

Would someone turn on a light?
I can’t seem to crack
The black-stained glass
That keeps me
Captivated.

Welcome and sit
To hear him speak, divine,
A fair, a sea, a sightless eye
That plucks me from my seat
Like a seed from the ground.

Let him without sin throw the first stone
To paint me scarlet
In my Rahab gown
And my thorn-crown brow
And force my lips to make me whole.

The dead dead eyes of the dead men who
Plead me stay and
Watch my body swell with
Lies, lies
To stitch my mouth: silent, blind.

A celebration for the new queen
To wash her hair at her master’s feet
To toil, toil, toil
As they cheer:
She is saved.