by Thor Bacon
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So is the baker guilty, too,
who baked the loaves
served at the Last Supper?
Am I also tinged
if I sell diamond earrings
to an adulterer?
And, if I stay quiet,
not sure what to say exactly —
am I party to the flames and rubble?
The election will solve nothing.
Still, we have to vote.
Still, we have to ask each other, "Why?"
And today, Wednesday the 19th, I hear
shouting and weeping down the crowded caminos
of my virgin's heart.
Thor Bacon is an American poet whose work has appeared most recently online at International Times, and in print with The Aurorean. He resides in Michigan, working as a goldsmith.
