MATRICIDE, FRATRICIDE, AND NARRACIDE
Strains of music
Drifting down the hall.
A man emerges,
Stands proud, and tall.
Surveys the land,
Of all that can be.
Walked a little farther, then stopped:
Wants to wait, wants to see.
Looks at the river,
Where he killed his mother.
Looks at the forest,
Where he will kill his brother.
Remembers the blood,
In the water, thinning
And spreading, Until
'Twas almost invisible; he gave her a wringing
Anyway, just to be sure
That dear mummy was dead,
She won't be back later,
That he won't have to hear any more
Nagging. Oh, how much fun
It will surely be,
To swing his cycle through the air,
Striking space, brother, and – me.
Matricide, fratricide, narracide – in one single day!
Oh, the Furies will come, and when they do – he shall pay!
To stop him is impeding,
Interfering with fate –
Some things are meant to happen, and others, well:
Just sit back and see, just wait.