The Pope’s Ring by Aaron Wiegert

How much does one choke up
As the Pope lies lifeless
Under a silver hammer?

Tap.

The Cardinal thumps him
On the forehead, calling
His birth name with each stroke.

Tap.

Silence looms like the bells
That once adorned caskets
To keep the living from being buried.

Tap.

Confirmed by the trinity,
The Ring is removed
And placed upon a block.

Diamonds scatter as memory
Subsides, and the newly elected
Rises with the white smoke.


Aaron D. Wiegert is the author of Evil Queen, a chapbook from Budget Press. His work has appeared in: Poetry Salzburg Review, Pacific REVIEW, Indent Magazine, The Broken Plate, Tulane Review, South Carolina Review, Spoilage Magazine, and Antique Children Quarterly. He can be reached at haveuceenthebridgeman@gmail.com.