Lucrezia’s Revolt

Poem on seizing power

Red edge of revenge overdue you waited too long — age.

They took everything from you, your voice, your blood, your belief, possessed, stripped, skinned you — dog.

Born from a lion mating with a deer, emotions roiling inside you — civil war.

Cheated of your youth by hope’s golden slogans which turned out to be tinsel.

Fake like your teeth and your feigned forgiveness — you swore those peaches came from Palermo.

But they dropped down the road in east Melbourne bruised, broken, and sour — biography.

And those rare sweet moments were not drops of Sicilian hybla, but thick New Zealand manuka — regret.

Your passions were your ancestors whispering hot curses in your ear, where is your goddamn pride — shame.

So you said, fuck it, you are nobody’s horse and you will not be baited, manipulated, coaxed, goaded— defiance.

No longer the hunted deer sandwiched in suffocating subservience and compromise — lion.

The tables have turned, power intercepted, it is you who are the ancestor holding the mantle — crown.

© Carlo Zeno 2022

_________________

Thank you for reading and thanks to the editors at Blue Insight for providing this space. You can support here, or check out two pieces below.