The Confessor's Muses

[Aish]

I am the dictator of memory.
In armband and cap I'll re-write your life Is 'armband and cap' necessary?
to suit my vision. Mother, do my bidding.
If I brand you a slut the reader will know
only this and nothing more.
You'll be doomed to sluttery in a stranger's eyes. You pay a good deal of attention to 'Mother', and her typecast promiscuity, yet do not introduce 'Father' until the end.
Though the world eludes my grasp,
trees still grow despite my wrath,
in this mirrored land I'm Christ. Show me your pity
or die by fire. I move among a plethora
of images and truths, distorting those
which court my gaze. I'll rip the family album
to shreds, use our ancestors' fingers as a necklace. From here to the end is goddamned gorgeous.
Mother, weep as I erect a mall on your sacred
burial grounds. Father, drink your beer
and howl like a jackal in heat.
I am not done revising the past.

Bear with me a little, Jack. I like this piece immensely, yet my mind wants to excise it, paring it back to its glaring, self-serving bones.

Ex:

I am the dictator of memory.
I'll re-write your life
to suit my vision.
Mother, do my bidding.
If I brand you a slut the reader will know
only this and nothing more.
The world eludes my grasp,
trees grow despite my wrath;
in this mirrored land I'm Christ. Show me your pity
or die by fire.
I move among images and truths, distorting those
which court my gaze. I'll rip the family album
to shreds, use our ancestors' fingers as a necklace.
Mother, weep as I erect a mall on your sacred
burial grounds. Father, drink your beer
and howl like a jackal in heat.
I am not done revising the past.

Cheers!