In the Name of the Tyrant
What did we suffer for? why did we flee
our houses as if we had been hostages at our own
tables? Even free, we were not free, we kept
breaking down in thrift stores, our eyes
tearing in bins of glasses taken from the faces
of the dead; disoriented and dizzy as crows
swarming the corpses of our own hearts,
in the aisles of the department stores
filled with the glitter of plenty, we kept
spilling coffee on ourselves. Why
are we forever afraid of bathtubs, of water
hitting us in the face like the invisible
stoning of an anonymous crowd, why does buying
makeup make us feel guilty, why do we
eat our food like thieves? Why do we
sneak our friends in the back door
and make our love climb up a tree? Why
do our lies nest within one another like
diminishing dolls? Why do we jump
when the smallest child pushes open a door?
Why are we afraid of the whistling of teapots?
Who’s coming in to read over our shoulders
our most secret thoughts, who’s clinging
to our roofs like a demon? Why is his cheerfulness
even more frightening than his anger? Why does my hope
burn like the scar of a burn on my breast? Why are you
an eye floating in a pool of dead water, blue; and unable
to breathe? Why do we keep asking why?
How do we know how to stop it if we don’t know
why it began? How can we unravel so much
violence followed by so much lie? How will we know
when it’s ever over? or believe
it will ever stop?
Copyright Credit: Rebecca Seiferle, "In the Name of the Tyrant" from Wild Tongue. Copyright © 2007 by Rebecca Seiferle. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.
Source: Wild Tongue (Copper Canyon Press, 2007)