1444 c/o Crispin Best

From the Original Umbrian, the First English Translation of the Third of the Seven Iguvine Tables

And while those two boys frot in that cave
the young Saint burns objects of temptation
such as cheetahs and sleeping bags
and heats himself with the flame
while around him the goats fall like a light snow.
A bolt of lightning
connects the spire of the cathedral
to the sky
in a perfect way
that hopes for fire.
The young Saint -
years later, swollen and bebishoped -
takes to burning young boys.
One can make of that
what one wants.
Those healthy men are being sold
to those other healthy men
who have purpose and a walking stick
amongst other things.
The Saint rides about on his bicycle.
He finds those with plague,
brushes their hair, coos
and warns them off sodomy
unless they’d rather be burned than buried.
It only half makes sense
to open deep welts
with a whip
in another man’s back
and arms and chest and the entirety of his face.
There are many good reasons
to stay in one’s house
to shiver and weep
and when the Saint catches the plague
he realises that this is just one.
The cathedral burns still.
Since people like to gather,
they stand together to watch.
Vinegar is brought
until the flames are out.
Having burned his only mittens with that boy,
the Saint grows cold
and is buried
in a perfect way
so his coffin can leak blood
for just two years
of four seasons each.