Sundogs
john sibley williams
— for Charlottesville
This isn’t how I’m told halos work. Two mock suns
lighting up the low horizon, as if competing for
grace-giving, as if at war with each other. The bor-
ders of their brief bodies converging in one great
arc flanking then eclipsing the real. An imagined
architecture of virtue. A pure white history. Torch-
light flickers & feasts, flickers & feasts, flickers &
feasts. Whatever men think they stand for, the old
gods are toppling.
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