We share him
in fibres caught
on our clothes
& these identify us
as his executors
:
prophetic we
dreamt we
killed him
in cold blood.
I took his balls
for a trophy
& you said
you were Jack
right before
you ran him through
& unpacked
his chest
onto the pavement.
& we plucked
words from his mouth
easy as
cutting his tongue
& they declared
his divine
will
and set
his corpse
alight.
The prophet burned
& we both
caught fire.
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