On Forgiveness

It’s a simpler matter when you’ve known

The feeling of bringing nations of men to their knees. 

When you’ve emptied entire nurseries of firstborns; 

Fed years to the locusts, then locusts to the lips of John—

Carcasses of the surplus scuttling across desert

Sand like chambermaids in David’s castle. 

I too could cast a man’s deeds into the Sea

Of Sin No More; drop stones like roses at his feet. 

Power makes one gracious. Power makes one

Easy. Even Lionel could rise from his bed

Of charms unharmed; Al would never learn

To loathe the smell of grits like burning flesh.

Yes, I’d lay down the knife and wipe my eyes

As if I were slicing onions for a meal;

Dance daintily across a kitchen floor

To the tune of “Let’s Stay Together.”  No,

I would not begrudge my lover’s trip to Damascus

If I could blind him on his way there.