Why You Were Not Invitedto The Last Supper Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

If you know the rules, you will
not gate crash the last supper.
Sit knowing you were not one of
the twelve. You did not have what
it takes.

Simple. Go home and stop the lament.
Last suppers are for a few. Their duty
is to call the many. Crowning a king
is done by the chosen. They sing
a song you do not know. They lift a heavy
crown to do so.

None of this is known to you.
Losing traditions is not done by kingdoms. Yours
was a name not mentioned, in the phrase, 'thy kingdom come.'

Your 'thy kingdom' suffered a coup when
the crown fell and broke into the beats
that use your skin as its envelope.
You sent them to a palace with no address, only
known to you and me. Therefore, being your
only subject, I salute you only when you get on the dias.




















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