Martyrdom

 

tonight      I started walking back to you father

it was meant to be a stroll but then I started

walking faster      father      I started chanting all

the names of all the men I ever went to bed

with      father      my thighs were burning and my feet

were heavy with blood but I kept the pace and chants

of names up      father      listed them to fence posts

and the trees and didn’t stop and started getting

younger      father      and walked all night till I was home

just a spark in your groin again and told you not

to bring me back to life      told you I repented

every name and had freed them of me      father

 

 

Andrew McMillan (Australia, 1957-2012)

 

from Poetry (issue September 2017), to buy the magazine: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/subscribe

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