He’s the one who braids the hair of the dead
and lowers them into the bog. Sometimes
they let him keep a cape or a bracelet.
This one’s the woman of Gwrtheyrn.

Here he is, ducking the hunt, scraping hides
until his nails break, then chewing the stiff
leather. Another of the tribe returns
on a travois with a bloody thigh, visible tibia.

He had one black boil just below his groin
but survived by the kindness of his sister.
Eight years later, he marries her off for four
guinea fowl and a pair of gloves.

He has kept to his vows and mastered illumination:
Blanche of Castile and her son Saint Louis.
He instructs his scribes to place his small figure beneath
the King’s feet as the iconographer of Revelations.

The Highlanders manage to complete their formation
trapping the French cavalry, killing them all.
He is the orderly who risks his position by whispering
to Ney that his plan was impeccable.

He hired the boy who threw the bomb
in Haymarket, then had him silenced.
Pinkerton approves and he goes on to plan
the murders at Homestead, the hanging of the Mollies.

He gets on his knees and prays with the Quaker.
The President asks him how things have gone wrong
and cries as he strikes his fist on the carpet, which
Henry notices is a fine example of Meskabad artistry.