Poet Warrior
I am the Norse god Bragi,
lyricist for the conquests
and defeats of antiquity.
I have sailed the North Sea
by aurora borealis light,
singing songs of victory
drunk with the spoils
of Lindesfarne Abbey.
I am a Celtic warrior born
from the waters of the Rhine
before stone sheathed steel.
With the blessings of Taranis
I have marched into battle
to taste Etruscan blood
and watch Virdomarus
fall to the sword of Rome.
I am of the tribe Myaamia
descended from ancient Adena.
I’ve hunted with wolven stealth
and flown on raven’s wings.
I swear an oath of vengeance
to the Moon Earth and Sun;
the Ohio shall one day flow red
with the white man’s blood.
SMG
*(Excerpt from Another Hotel Room)
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