the march

the fire

burning and searing

through the raven air

Through mountains

of muck

Fountains of

foul language

we marched

we marched to 

we marched to his home

up this hill to his home

his home

that impaled all others

on gilded spikes

The people inside the others

barely missed the point

but it scarred them

anyway

It scared them

anyway

And now they carried 

pitchforks

torches

spikes made from revenge

the stench of foul language

Whether it’s

cussing

shouting

screaming

gossiping

Idle gossip started this

And to save myself

and Papa 

I must take part

To save us from

the spikes of revenge

Monsieur Faute carries

and the spikes of fear

everyone else carries

I must add

to the stench

is full of a

swirling aroma

of grape and alcohol

and blood and sweat

is a potion

that makes people spill

everything

from gaping mouths

All the foul language

comes piling out

through wine

Good wine

is deep burgundy

with a slight glint

in its color

but the wine 

I carried up that hill

in my eyes

in my head

in my soul

was black

with no glint

good wine

Good enough for Faute

Good enough for all the others

who wanted to spill

poison

bile

hate

from gaping mouths

and Faute had slammed his hand

down on the counter

demanding 

more wine

Papa scurried to fetch 

our best

and brought it

on a silver platter

befitting a king

Faute had smiled

This.. this is a good wine

and took a deep sip

deep deep deep deep deep

and when he returned to the surface

he inhaled

and bellowed out gossip

That bastard Fezensac will get what’s coming to him

I bet he has a plan to kill us all

out of pure revenge

for our triumphs at the Bastille

The sea roared 

took him

and gave him a crown

King Faute

King of killing kings

King of killing almost-kings

outside where it picked up 

pitchforks

torches

spikes

And then it followed him

to a good man’s home

Where Simone, 

my love,

his niece,

was reading

Where Claude,

my closest friend,

his eldest,

was snoring

Where Herbert,

my laugh,

his youngest,

was dreaming

Where he,

my savior,

the noble,

was breathing

I’ll give you evidence

but what good will that do?

If you live like the sea,

you’ve made up your mind

Coward

But if you live like the grapes,

you can do anything

be anything

Good wine or sour wine

1. He saved us

Mama died

Papa died inside

Harvest was bad

Wine was bad

Money was weak

The town was is weak

He returned from Paris--

from the Estates-General--

for us

He bought our wine

He played cards with our people

He listened to our complaints

He gave me friends

He rebuilt our town

the sea turns on him now

the sound of a door breaking open

it’s like the crashing of waves

of bad wine, blackened

When the sea roared again

I left

and found my own way in

without smelling

foul language

without drinking

foul wine

is as lovely as 

fresh air

She is uncontaminated

She is peaceful

And she is smart

is always open

and inviting

to anyone who knows where it is

I do

I’ve spent many mornings

looking at her

looking at the sunrise

through the open window

And I know 

how to get in

which means 

I know how to escape

and makes a great ladder

a silent ladder

Hand here,

foot here

That’s a wobbly stone

Not there

Hand here, 

foot here

Breach the sill

and slip in

The name of an angel 

coming from the voice of an angel

Gabriel! What are you doing?

Getting you out.

Where is Claude?

With Uncle.

And Herbert?

With me. 

A small head

poked its way through

A sturdy mountain of clothes

So obvious

So smart

We can leave through the servants’ quarters.

Uncle won’t leave here.

Claude won’t leave Uncle.

Herbert won’t leave Claude.

I won’t leave Herbert.

is like grapes

Mostly good,

but sometimes sour

That’s what I told her

hoping it would

convince someone

but 

she smiled

a sunrise smile

and hugged Herbert closer

We won’t leave without each other

how the people history

remembers

are often seen as

courageous 

But rather,

I find them cowardly

History will remember

Faute, 

maybe me

But I have a feeling

it won’t remember

Claude

Fezensac

Herbert

Simone

who’s courage is like a sunrise

has no clue what

it’s unfolding

but it hopes

that it will be as good as

burgundy wine

placed her hand on my shoulder

Convince them

and you have us

to Fezensac’s room across the manor

darting from windows

hiding from bricks

dragging Simone and Herbert

behind me

The gilded door gleamed gallantly

hidden in the raven’s night

And there was the savior

and there was his son

please.

his eyes down

his face shielded

his hands shaking

No, Gabriel

No.

my shoulder,

held her breath

Claude shook his head,

sighed sadly

Herbert tugged his father’s arm,

comforted his toy bear

Let them attack

Let them destroy this old home

Let them take everything

Let them tear down society

Let their fear control them

Let their vengeful hearts take hold

I’ll pray for their souls

and I’ll pray for mine

Father you are being too serious.

How else would you prefer me Claude?

I had to sheath my sword

The air was too  thick to cut

Father, the villagers want blood.

Gabriel knows a way out if you’d just--

Disgrace my father?

And his father before him?

And his father before him?

And his father before him?

And his father before him?

And his father before him?

And his father before him?

Do that if you must.

For your family won’t leave without you.

And you will all surely

die

if you remain here

Fezensac shuddered and exhaled

The air gripped tighter around itself

and smoke filtered in

I remember the first day

I met Fezensac and his family

The air had been just as thick

but not this cloudy

There had been 

no mob

no pain

no death

no love

then

The smoke grew heavier

and the air more tense

Faute.

It was his voice that also filled

the looming darkness

The voice of the 

King of Devils

himself

Bastard.

I saw everyone in the room

Their eyes 

glowing 

in terror

Uncle we must go. Please.

Please Fezensac...

Throw away your pride

and protect your family

protect your family,

not your pride

click clack click clack click clack

It was the sound of shoes clacking up stairs--

peasant, poor soleless shoes

The window is open

Simone’s window is open

The escape hatch is still open

And Simone’s room is nowhere near the stairs

But it can be

to anyone who moves quickly

Like Faute

A brick crashed through his window

stood still as 

Herbert cried

Simone pleaded

Claude gathered precious things

We stood facing each other

Eyes locked on eyes

in the raven’s darkness

into a dead man’s eyes

Seeing his final wishes

and his departed soul

and his hope for a better future

for those who’s eyes

haven’t glazed over

yet 

They all looked back at me

We cannot leave him!

Daddy no no!

Father won’t survive the night!

There’s also something about

looking into guilty eyes

I’m sure they were feeling it

looking into mine

But I could save myself yet

I could save myself

Papa

Herbert

Claude

Simone

if I got them out

alive

Simone, your uncle needs your trust

Herbert, your daddy will be fine

Claude, your father needs you to be courageous

I looked into the fear enveloping them all

and for a moment I pitied them

and for more than a moment I feared for them

but I would not deny Fezensac’s

final wish

a burning life

is stronger than

the smell of 

foul language

bad wine

and salty sea wind

I thought I’d save them all

I thought we’d all make it to the field of

beautiful budding flowers

and I suppose, 

in a way, 

one of us did

But the rest of us

continued our search

for good wine, 

deep red, shining, and smooth

while immersed

in an endless sea.