What happened was
The ancestors stopped
what they were doing
when they heard me ask
For whom are we writing
our ancestors or our children?
They gathered in a tribal web
to listen to the answer
eyeing up the double noose.

Then they spoke;
We admit we called your name
not expecting you to hear
and we are weary of the anecdotes
you use for your imprisonment.

Remove us from the story
you have woven
entombing us in gossamer threads
like flies, a store for fallow days.

Undo the web and we will disappear
taking our hunger with us, and our losses.
Loosen the grip on history,
let fact and fiction go.

No page has ever refused your ink
The careless rush, the many pointed
diamonds of delusion.
For gods sake think up something new
and let us rest in peace.