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The Rape of Maid Marian (poetry)

The Rape of Maid Marian


When nothing is left

and all the good men are thieves:

some stealing what they can in the night,

some stealing away on crusades —


I found myself impaled

like the townsfolk, and not


without a lover’s kiss

the Sheriff of Nottingham

drew his small sword

and found another sheath.


When the diadem falls

so crumble walls, gold, church-beams,

turrets, statuary,

kingdoms, justice…