Arches Crumbling

In high-school we always learn about a version of history. After all of those classes, there is a reset, where we learn that history isn't how we were taught. And then decided to switch perspectives... how history was experienced.

the world’s arches, history’s neatness
is used to raise the beautiful fools we
want our children to be

astonished to see the burning
wicker-man of their childhood
their mouths agape with wide
pitiful eyes as distant bells chime 13 hours

in their new, broken, reality the milk pale,
forgotten seaside lay underneath
the cloaked wings of Death another
stripped chorus of silent glances,
soles pant hastily

shuffling & muttering questions in unison
as they sat on those white sands,
on the edge of Rome exchanging
bets, coins, & words when the city
would fall