Blessed Ghosts in My Mind

To draw this out traditionally

and cross myself,

from the forehead to the belly,

it’s Shakespeare to Euripides—

and then, across my heart,

Sappho to Emily.

But you must take those four

and stick the whole bloody mess

into the golgatha

that Herman laid out

chasing that blasted

white whale.

And here we are.  A mappamunde.

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