It is No Kings in March
and a one-man King Lear
opines from a makeshift stage
in a Union building
on the bank of a river;
he is boisterous
and profound,
a shapeshifter
come to teach us
again
about the failings
of ego and power
here in this space
that smells of
picket signs and
hard-won fights,
placards of victory
line the walls
while outside,
the wind has changed
as bodies are counted
to move the scale of battle more.
Photo: New Haven, CT, March 28, by Jen Payne. Poem ©2025, Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you’ll love my book SLEEPING WITH GHOSTS, on sale now!
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