Forcas

Cut not your hair
& grab your spear,
get out of the wagon &
onto your pony
& ride; Forcas knows
the virtues of herbs
& precious stones, the names
of the cyclopean builders
who plopped the fulsome hills
down on your sleeping
burg; he teaches logic, esthetics,
chiromancy, pyromancy
& rhetoric. He can make a man
invisible, ingenious & well
-spoken in cabal or committee,
drag the minutes with incendiary
rude wit, the real
deal, stopper of bucks,
starter of riots.  Just ask him
& he'll tell of rebellions
unquelled even as his stallion
bucked & whinnied. One hoof
in front of the other & his
legions at his heels: listen,
learn, his lessons
tarnished as a stranger's plate
gauntlet found by the
fork in the road. "Take
both paths," he says, "& if you meet
the demon, well, might as well
try to slay him."