All My Glass

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Language of Prairie Dogs

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What are you going to do with him, Cardinal
My stomach crawls when I'm near him
My duty must be - in some way - to forgive him
But his new defiance... he speaks, now, against remorse

Now, the very words I use to shepherd me back
Where I may err - he twists back on us
Like they mean something different. He's lost his shame in his acts
This vase - whose is it, father? Yours

Correct. Now - smashed here on the ground
Whose is it, now? Still yours. Look
The floor's now covered in ornamented glass
Cracked glyphs, shards of patterns - look

With edges that could slit your neck
As quietly lacerate your palms as
You stoop and gather them. Correct
It's still all my glass. You should know my metaphor

By now - my answer. I've smashed
A lot on this floor to show you - repeating it
Shattering things I can't then unbreak
Then stooping and cutting my hands on it

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