In Ye Olden Dayes

Saxon poets chanting canticles of praise
from icy rooftops sloped toward the sun.

Bards of commerce
draped in fealty to the divine,
their fractured bones
whitewashed
discarded
unadjudicated.

Vassal peasants
dregs of feudal injustice
subordinate to William their liege
play the part,
both benign and beseeching,
for mere pennies on the hypocritical dollar.

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