frolic
William Ward Butler
It’s a party, not a funeral.
The men have animal heads
but their torsos are familiar.
In a night of transformation,
how would you hope to be changed?
Barbarians at the gate—let them in.
You did it again: found the right shore.
​
Want to know how to help a friend?
Forget burial. Here, there’s a new country:
women and children left first. Here,
there are no dark ages. New renaissance.
Ass of a deer, Dionysian beard.
Your drink is garnished with star anise.
Violins, violins. Dying empire outside the door.
William Ward Butler is the poet laureate of Los Gatos, California. He is the author of the chapbook Life History from Ghost City Press. His recent poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Bennington Review, Denver Quarterly, Five Points, RHINO Poetry, Switchyard, and other journals. He is a poetry reader for TriQuarterly and co-editor-in-chief of Frozen Sea: frozensea.org