It falls.
Dull clatters in the dust
The switch passes through my trembling palms
Each in turn weeping red rivers
And the stench of the beast collapsed at our feet
So viscously we beat this steed of labor
First into submission
Then into the grave
Only now, after whipping the mare for not living
Does the thin stalk leave aching hands
And I realize I had been beating a dead horse
It was not enough to let the murdered corrode
I had also defiled the only remembrance of the free spirit

If I was religious,
I would have fallen to my knees and prayed beside
My simple stick
Pleaded to God to accept my wrongs
And forgive the victim of my thrashing
Accept retribution, in return for reincarnation

If I was political
I would have said the beast deserved it
Offer a public apology
And leave my crime for others to slander
No need to clean up
No need to remember
Death is done

If I was certain
I would have never reached for the hickory
There is no need to abuse when there is trust
Yet the temptation to vilify
Caused my hand to seek unwanted knowledge

Even, perhaps, if I was human
Before such cardinal erudition
Snaked through my nerves
I would have forgiven myself

But it is only I
Avaunt!
The switch and I will keep company
I will wait for this corpse
To regenerate in forms yet to be known
And for cruel wood to mold and be gone
Avaunt!
It is just I
Alone
No death at my feet
And hope in my hands