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Trilogy of Doubt

What form
do you ask for




pointing at me
with your scorn-




raised brow
you clutch your




coxcomb    velvet robe
with your left hand




ringed    married to God
in cuffed surplice




and say: so shall
you burn


What dunce cap
bows me down




cracked hands
clasped over




tunic of pale yolk
the Jews’ color




I was made to wear
for shame




I am ready
to renounce nothing




even should they...




What standing 
crone \ what blood-




bearded henchman
crouched down \




hooded grimace
clenched fist




behind pleading
old man \ capped




gumming:
swear nothing


by fire

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