between that place
when the light that lit
into the specter of the dead
king extinguished
and that place when that light
that lit into that specter
reignited
marcellus leaned
down on his hands on the parapet peered
into the horizontal abyss of the east i swear
he saw through a blind man’s
darkness that night like he saw
through every horizon
saw all the way to norway oslo saw
up a boulevard that passed
through that season of branches leafless
and through those hours in which torches burned
through masonry saw
a wide hallway down to its distant end
a long table and in an armchair
at the head of the table seated i swear he saw
the king of the vikings the servant of the danes
uncle fortinbras and seated
at the table to the uncle’s right
the nephew i swear i swear
marcellus read
the movements of the uncle’s hands
read the movements of the uncle’s lips and in his heart
he knew the conspiracy in his heart he knew
i didn’t have a heart
i didn’t know
if those were the same cannons i cleaned
polished greased when i was a guest
at elsinore that summer two years before
i didn’t know if those were the same cannonballs i helped
store there on the battlements if those were the same
bows the same crossbows the same arrows i helped oil stack
and the chevaux de frise the frisian horses sunk
so deep the sod gripped them like rooted
trees across the pasture in front of the castle gates i didn’t know
if those were the same i helped repair
i didn’t know
i didn’t have a heart
and marcellus didn’t want to hear what I thought
he wanted someone to tell him what he knew to confirm
what he knew in his heart in his heart
so i told him what he wanted to hear
i lied
between that place
About Me
I have a day.

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