(written in a time of paranoia and war)

Sometimes at pagan shrines, they vowed

—"Beowulf"

We asked for a tyrant. One

arrived, with tales

of spears and distant victories.

We swore allegiance to the tale-

teller, murdered the previous

in his bed, stoning the corpse with stones

dredged from wallsteads. We asked

to have killed every enemy under the sun,

some still in their youth. We asked

the tyrant to deliver fear, doubt, and adultery

to the sword, to bring low jealousy,

winter, suspicion, and summer alike;

we asked him to raze all

that could ever hurt us. He did,

the slaughter making an abattoir

of our schools, shops, and bedrooms.

We asked for extinction, then

never to be asked again about our

decision. The tyrant never questioned.