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A crown of flames


Everyone knows
that you did not wait for John
to blaze that trail behind; after all he exists
only in the legends of the locusts, wilderness, and rivers; besides, our generation
remembers not the events of the Red Sea, Sinai, Jordan nor the Nile.

As the sole monarch of this day
no one defies your word for John is too trivial as to create a stir
in your courtyard; so the royal rite of the Passover is again celebrated
all for Caiaphas’ capricious want.

Ask me not to walk
that red carpeted isle to the throne for it only widens the chasm
between us; by inheritance it belongs to no one
else but Pilate; it has never been a part of my passion in this
lifetime; perhaps in the remotest time beyond.

Left without any worthwhile artifact on the auction block, carrying a cross without Simon
is the best deal l could squeeze out as my passport back to Eden; while Salome dances in gay abandon
for a crown of flames…in exchange of John’s
head on a plate
of silver.

By Clem M. Bascar

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