Virgilian Lots

The pigs are taking shots

At the mourners on the hill

I'm truly not neutral but I lost all direction

Day I woke ready to blow the bridge

For finding you hand over your mouth

So instead I burned my own village down

I'm grieving for you my love

And I don't understand what's going on

Just as the twin volcanoes of Cuauhnāhuac

We were once stable

So sad I must bury every thought

Of you before it shows its teeth

Now I amuse myself

With the tobeyes form of Virgilian Lots

Like your neo-feminist divinations

I'm grieving for you my love

And I don't understand what's going on

Our memories once almost sacred

Are embarrassments to me now

Of the three things I find most shocking

The first is how trivial you are

The second is my depth of feeling; third

The purity of our collapse

I'm grieving for you my love

And I don't understand what's going on