From Publius
To Gaius
Gaius, how long have we worked together now?
Three, four years?
Are we not as friends, whose sweat salts the soil?
Whose blood still stains mine alter?
…
And mine yours?
…
Have you forgotten your oath?
As brothers have we not sacrificed for the work?
In shared turmoil we toiled with miniscule minutias,
Always working together to make solutions
From pesty problems.
…
Yet, since you hired Marcus you have been different;
…
The work once shared has now become mine own.
No longer do you seek success in teamwork,
Nay,
Languid you have become with the work;
Heavy have mine shoulders become as a result.
Marcus is a joke.
Sure, he makes a fine comrade
Suitable for long binges of wine and women,
But his intellectual capacity is found wanting.
…
A detriment to getting the job done.
…
Still, you insist upon toting him around,
Holding his hand like a little lost puppy
Whose eyes water with weeping greed,
For more and more favoritism and need.
While, I, sit here and continue the work;
I am here finishing what we started, Gaius:
My SWEAT
…
My BLOOD
Has never ceased to pour forth to the land,
While you reap the harvest, leaving bare kernels
For your so called ‘friend’ to pick at.
…
Scraps as a reward for rearing another bountiful crop.
…
While Marcus lounges in your atrium,
Sucking plump figs,
…
That I have grown,
…
Spending more time in the lavatorium,
Than tilling the soil or plucking and picking.
No, dear Gaius, you can have the work.
Enjoy it with your dear Marcus.
He’d make a great Antinous to your Hadrianus.
…
Together, may the gods see you buggered in failure.
…
For this, I will make an offering of frankincense and myrrh
As I set off for new fields and greener pastures
To ply my trade.
One that you will find wanted in the days and months
To come.
…
I’ve new fields to plow
Seeds to sow
Crops to reap
And seedlings to grow
…
Like them, dear Gaius, I will thrive under noonday sun,
While you will wilt with your work.
Without me.
Signed,
PERTINAX
PERTINAX 