Done in Our Name - Anasarca

I should have known

we’d killed him

Tuesday morning.

I woke up strangely buoyant,

whisteling a song

As when I bent

over the dictionary’s c’s

boldface, at the corner,

there to catch my eye,

were corpse candle, cauterize

and condemnation, cyanide

I should have known then

we’d killed him

should have sensed the

huge organism’s

sly joy, cat’s paw

Batting at his eye, in the chamber, out again

cranky machinery of revenge

grinding to and fro

in the night

in our name.

One headline read «REPRIEVE»

and just a block away

another edition shouted «EXECUTED.»

It was done

in our name.

All our hands

on the wheel

that sealed him

in the tomb.

All our ears

echoing with

it’s metallic clang.

We all find ourselves

murderers now

participate in his death,

no — even more than that

We take part in his crime.

Others are saddened,

diminished or angry.

But once it’s done

the clock has turned.

It doesn’t matter

what we said.

A man, a boy, is dead.

It was done in the dark

Tuesday morning

in our name and all our hands