SPLINTER-WORD
George III was buried yesterday
200 years ago.
The mad King Bluster-Tyro
pressed New England into granite liberty.
Ceremonies of the royal tomb
reverberate across a nation
scarred by assassination.
Abraham, Jack… William, Jim…
framed by wide wings of Martin
(& Bobby too). They stand
elongate, with palm frond –
archangels in a nave-cavern
of fluted oaks. Stone tears well
from republican cenotaphs
when that Ant-Leader laughs
who foments red-black wars (from home
to hell). So long waves coalesce
magnificent Pharaoh & Osiris
in theopolitical impasse
with alien slave throngs – witness
the fissure of Red Sea by their God!
Tyrant & people, king
& kin… a knotty kenning;
Agnes Martin might trace a grid
to simplify ratios of power & myth.
A single snowflake amid crows
of winter, in the beginning was
the splinter-word. Her spark was in the pith.
2.17.20
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