Two Labors
Twin Suns hang lazy in a Gemini sky,
Hiding heartstring stars like so many marionette tethers;
Interwoven as spider’s lace and the fall of man.
Every horned head heavy as kingship’s looming blade.
The Beast of Compunction sits disquieted on a throne of hope;
An illfit chair of odd angles and sharp corners,
Slathered in gold leaf amongst kalaedescope gardens.
A burden is still a burden when carried with dignity,
Backbreaking labor,
Betwixt golden spears from god’s lapis stained palace.