Hi Glenn,
I think the personification works fairly well, though it felt laboured when drawn cross 2 stanzas. Would you consider combining those into one? I've put in bold some elements I think could be removed if you were to consider condensing.
Thanks for sharing. This was enjoyable.
Trev
I’m twenty-five centuries old,
more fragile than a sheet of ancient parchment.
My statue was built of papier-mâché
and stood in Tiananmen Square for less than a week.
My sister has her statue in New York,
colossal, made of green copper.
She used to welcome the tempest-tost. Now she’s retired.
People sometimes confuse us, but we are not at all alike.
Even tyrants love Liberty. When they’re not French kissing Bibles
or groping flags, they’re trying to get to third base with her.
Tyrants don’t dare to try that shit with me.
I think she holds that torch and wears that sunbeam tiara
just to piss me off because I’m doomed to die in darkness.
So says the oracle on the WaPo masthead.
But it’s a lie. They won’t secretly bury me alive.
I’m dying right now, in broad daylight.
On your phone, computer, or television,
you can watch them frogmarch me to my cross
and hang me up at high noon for everyone to see,
like Jesus. But unlike Jesus, I can’t fix [the] dead.
So save me. Don’t hold your breath hoping for a resurrection. [How about simpler phrasing at the end: "Don't hold out for a resurrection"?
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