I dreamt that we were gods, the three of us,
you two brothers, and I – distinguished by our eyes,
that’s how our people knew us, chestnut brown,
ice blue, and chameleon hazel. As gods do,
you two were in dispute, some brotherly quarrel
at first, but then a rage of fists, and storms,
and plagues. All the while, I tried to stand between
the both of you, until the people came up the mountain
to bring us down, and we were slaughtered by their hands;
me first for failing to keep the peace. In my last breaths,
I could feel the damp grass, and for the first time
since creating myself, shivered from the cold night air.
The familiar brick buildings were strange at first,
but I was curled at the base of them, with a white
blanket, and an empty bottle of whiskey, which I must
have drank during the night. I was back at university,
but I was no student, I was a vagrant, homeless
and lonely, and longing to be near the rush of people.
From the static of a walky-talky, I heard the approach
of security, who were there to remove me from my spot,
though I did not understand why. I struggled, I ran,
I was captured, I murdered, I escaped, I sought sanctuary
on the highest building, and in the lowest gutter,
and I wept at my misfortune; another god reborn.