A poem by Thomas Thornburg

One wonders whom the next elected

Criminal for these troubled times

Will the feckless public, suspect,

Lever in the long direction

(Between the last war and the next)

We take in our quotidian crimes;

How long our matrons skirt the leering

Lawless on main ways to market;

How long our aged folk in fear

Imprisoned at their portals peering

On them convicted in their derring

And that with such cocksureness wear

The scutum of their darknesses,

Petronius? (I pray you, burn these letters.)

Editor’s note: We are please to present the first of twenty-five poems from Thomas Thornburg’s collection, Ancient Letters, published in 1987. It is very clever stuff and tends to cluster on the theme of how Roman we in the United States are. Thornburg knows history, ancient and modern, and has read widely in the canons of Western literature. Those who have read “Elmer McCurdy” will recall with what acuity and humor he catalogued the period between Elmer’s death in 1911 and his resurrection in 1976. In Ancient Letters he turns his sights on the modern and discovers how ancient it is. There is nothing new under the sun, you know.

There will be more. Thornburg has given permission for the entire book to appear here. Prepare to be challenged and delighted.