wrestling childhood foes.
We played superheroes,
one crushing the other.
We watched from the forest’s edge,
the Iroquois, setting fire to it all,
their bodies were half man / half king.
No need for rifles
with speed like their’s,
but with knives you can stab Caesar,
because if you erase a god
you can create one of your own –
or so we were told.
When the embers settled,
we wiped the blades clean against our jeans,
hid the body next to his sons,
under burnt offerings of branches and leaves.