Cut adrift, we two, on the Tiber’s tide, forbidden twins of the vestal maid and Mars. What providence, we should be plied from the jaws of usurper’s decree, saved
by a mother wolf. How simple it seems now, before the wayward shepherd, legions marching on Alba Longa, the Sabine feast affair; before the hundred seasons
of my reign. From the brink of delirium, I nursed beside you, departed brother, yet to learn the seed of imperium slumbered in one, but not in the other.
Alexander Ross is a guest contributor who has been featured in our writing competition books. Follow him for more here.
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My poetic is very different to yours, but you might find 'Poetry in a Time of Collapse' of interest, and perhaps also my Substack publication, Loot & Lyre. I'm English and I think it fair to say that I am Bowdenesque in my reactionary modernism. [See Greg Johnson (editor) Counter-Currents edition, 'Reactionary Modernism - Jonathan Bowden'.] I was much reviewed and highly rated once. Now I am ignored. Kind of marooned, or disembodied, if not cancelled. That doesn't mean much though, not now.
This is where I see poetry going . . .
https://lootandlyre.substack.com/p/poetry-in-a-time-of-collapse