
there are remissions
of a certain kind, open to question:
stealthy sorties unlike military missions—
they are shrouded
just as a woven frock is plain
when accessorized only with winks
squints, lacking meaningful grain
or texture that is authentic
then again, earlier on
a line of Caesars raise their thumb
and Cleopatra cracks
a crafty smile—
she blinks Provencal
and you like it
their patois commands a trio
stilettos flung with abandon in three bangs
call the audience to attention
[a 'ten-hut or sorts]
most of them gasped
while one simply shattered
sentimental
later on, the headline read:
At the Forum
Something Wily
Today
One Dead for Certain.
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