The kingdom was nameless
where we lived that year,
the kingdom to which our father
sent us to study mathematics
and art. We went by train, my
sister and I; he allowed us each
a portion of bread, a book
to read. I should have sensed
something wrong when I
first saw the shining dome.
It was made of lead, heavier
than all the glory in the world,
which was what our father
would have said. For me,
I closed a blind eye and studied;
learned about sin and co-sin,
things like that. As for art,
I was given to watercolor;
dreamy pictures of heaven
and earth—though oil was
tempting. Another temptation:
the river beyond the gate.
It was quite shallow. My sister
and I wandered past
the NO TRESPASSING sign.
Like our father told us, do the math.
We did. Still we never forgave
him for sending us there,
though we tried to feel mercy.
It was downright evil, all
that liver we had to eat.
But like everything, it got easier;
we prayed every night, until
we came undone.