Protect your weary self

the ides of March are here

knives are sharpened!

blood thirst is

in their mouths

their robes are very fine 

silk and Egyptian cotton with

a filigree of Etruscan hyacinths

Their teeth are large 

in laughing mouths

stained with wine and shanks of mutton

They thirst for bloodletting 

like a disease

of their soul