a cursed name

existential exhaustion
creeps in this
petty pace from
day to day,

clear evidence
our yesterdays have
lighted fools.

we watch from
wooded hills,
sheltered from our
storm in flux,

as red-hat
would-wood rebels
clamber down ellipse to
New Dunsinane.

I, too, removed,
prophetic witch,
keep to myself and sisters
where I've been,
killing swine.

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