vesey on the eve

Maybe he should have split every tongue
among his fellow Israelites whether they swore
on their souls or not. Or gone it alone,

based on the signs he read in the cowries
and cob wheels, the gris-gris of his motherwit.

But that wouldn’t have been practical.
How many turncoats’ throats can one man slit,
how many ships commandeer, homesteads level

to ash by sunup? In his bones he knows
a fool or traitor one will step forward to sow

his plan like feed among the buckras,