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  • Have you heard?
    He’s back.
    Fresh from St. Peter,
    From the homely, pale shame of a shallow grave
    Haunted by the bones of truth,
    He stands naked in his release,
    Bound to me by blood.
    He brings to life
    Things blackened by time and indifference,
    The story beneath the story.
    As he shakes out his memories like a fist full of dirt,
    Facts crumble,
    Flesh becomes fog,
    Questions emerge.
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