Three Pithoi From Shangri-La Poem by Emmanuel Acheampong

They come with their caltrops;
To destroy the effigies bearing their names:
Kings of old on caparisoned horses
Long dead, grey, and lying in our monuments.
They come in torn flesh of wreaths
Bringing a lunge of coldness of the water
And carrying the curses of the graven image of God
Through earth-like elements of ending creation.

Two on the hansom; the Sons
And one on the lonesome; the Father.
They have come to invade the ambience.
Three kings past of our world
Come on a perilous visit.

So may I debar the end of the day.
For the City of Demons was not built in the east;
But in this age of the Western Sun
Where their morning tears from preceding night
Will only keep them to their pithoi
Which are the only clean objects left
In the sordid and unpromised house of Pandora.