Betraying my Hebrew lesson, enraging old Elijahu
I looked upon a bronze Ethiopian
cross, it contained a hundred other crosses
and an optical illusion, as if the crucifix whirled
in concentric circles.
”Copernicus was an Aethiopian!” where did I hear
that Shibboleth? Not in Nazareth?
A theory that would Please
Crazed old men with toothy grin and matted hair thought significant
would respond to my Shibboleth, adding something or other
about Nazareth, maybe their color
(perhaps one rasta got really original or rhymed)
singing, smoking and most of all, muttering
from their night-perches, half-snoozing and spectral blacks on the curb
to sleep by sunup, dawn is dragged by a garbage truck
like the body of Achilles’ concubine
The writing of this by hand is a mistake, but
Erroneous is the name of a saint
who did not make it on time to the canonization,
never on time, owning a different, Ethiopique time-piece
What is MY hand in all of this, what lies
at stake?
The hierophant Henry Walters
thought he was buying an Egyptian cross for his renown collection,
the smiling, hairless and toothless trader gypped him
Wally Walters, his son, uncovered the scandal,
with the tools provided by science and technique of their day
for testing veracity of relics and Dinari immemorial.
Wally Walters lifted his blue-stained forensic-powered thumb,
Concluding
…………….its a Wall-eat-wall world of altars
Ethiopian crucifixes weigh a ton yet contain
a whirl-eat-whirl optic dance,
And life’s a
…………………Copt!
