Bacchante

Vercingetorix was a cousin
of mine many times removed

who defeated nearly Caesar
but ignored the local Gallic

god of wisdom with little gold
chains in his tongue. It's

hit or miss with mysteries.
You love me, you love me not

who come of your own accord
& that's the mystery, to this

whirling spot, Bacchus rampant
on the hills & wine in abundance.

Unwise the wild blood chances,
hacks with an axe the edge of

possibility. You are welcome.