Sexagesima
By Jonathan Bennett
Will they drown in this deluge,
Held
back so long the clouds broke
In
a violent, uncontrolled storm
That
has produced this flood?
Have
I unleashed on us disease,
Shattering
the delicate health
That
will lead to the demise
Since
you will not seek a healer?
Has
my taking pen and pulling
At
this delicate cloth’s seams
Set
by washing, these threads
Are
now ruined and torn?
Does
this new ink poured
Into
unsuspecting containers
Unprepared
for freshness in their skins
Break
down, react, and burst?
Should
I have restrained,
Refusing
a plate at this buffet
Or
not partaking of so much
Instead
continuing in my long fast?
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