Pietas

[Todd]

Hi Leanne, I've been coming back to this a lot. My thoughts may be a little disorganized as I work through it. This has elements that I like in a poem such as mystery and evocative language. I'll just take it element by element. The title leads me to believe that I'm dealing with patriotism or some sort of loyalty and duty to clan and tribe.

Today, upturned, I look for the lie,--upturned is a versatile word. It could indicate that something has upset the speaker, caused them to question what was once left unquestioned. You think of upturned soil and possibly something buried below. This feels like the speaker had an epiphany and now looks for the lie that was previously invisible
the strawberry syrup disguising the base--I think strawberry was chosen for its resemblance to blood. Syrup carries a sweet connotation and makes you think of syrupy or honeyed words intending to insight. That it disguises the base makes me think that it's a faux modern revisionism.
that drips from the tongue of the mockingbird mime--interesting contrast and good phrasing with mockingbird mime. Something noisy next to something silent. I may be taking this wrongly, but those spouting the rhetoric tell the masses what they want to hear and mime the actions they want them to take. There is no originality or substance it is just a reflection of what the public wants. This could be making a broad statement from the crowd consciousness of politics or religion to an approach to art.
to a crystal decanter of sky.--still a gorgeous line even more in this reuse. This makes me move more toward art. I could stick with politics or religion if I interpreted crystal as an innate goodness. I see this more as the polluting of tastes and the bias of the crowd

Where truffle pigs root through a midden of pearls--a reduction of aesthetic sensibilities make us root around like pigs. Nice use of the allusion. I especially like the condensed truffle pigs
all stamped with a date of expiry--We both lack the ability to recognize value initially, and by the time we do its impact and relevance is wasted
inspiring stampedes as the dogma decrees--back to the fickle, easy to manipulate crowd
with a sniff from its perch in the sun.--the damn bird again with its true view of the crowd. The sniff shows the disdain. The perch shows the distance.

And nobody looks in their pockets,
and nobody stands on the ground; instead
they despair, with their feet in the air--these three lines give a sense of the helpless condition of the masses, being lied to, stole from, and rendered incapable
and I bleed, but their glasses are empty.--Now, we see the speaker inserted. The speaker bleeds, suffers for something worthwhile--not like the platitudes of strawberry syrup. The speaker scatters pearls and the pigs go rooting by. They are unable to drink the offering before it too expires. Perhaps an echo to the speaker being recognized after their death.



*Yes, recycling lines

Well, those were my initial thoughts. I loved the poem. I hope some of this was helpful.

Best,

Todd