Proverbs for Engraving onto Imperial Monuments War is the price of freedom. Depths bewilder. The blow aimed at the beast hits him who shields it. The sword of Justice best serves him who wields it. The gibbet’s final victim is its builder. A round coin rolls to him who most deserves it. A tree outlives its leaves; an age, its fashions. A carthorse needs its blinders; man, his passions. The word of Justice best shields him who serves it. The ardent spirit breaks the firm retort. Power bears scrutiny like the sun the gaze. God speaks His queer commands one thousand ways. The worm awaits. The butterfly is dreaming. The price of peace is bondage. Chains support. Persuasion is a proof. Seeing is seeming. previously published in Philosophy Now By a Poet of Two-and-Twenty (When Rimbaud Was Retired and Chatterton Was Dead) Today I’m two-and-twenty, __As Housman’s “Lad” was, once, But no sum of sighs a-plenty __Can educate a dunce. And yet the Muse has mired __In many a youthful head: Here Rimbaud was retired, __And Chatterton was dead. Since I was one-and-twenty __(Or rather, twenty-one), I’ve no dolce far niente __For I hear the clock-hands run. They shout semaphore instructions, __“Tock” close on the heels of “Tick,” Cry “No time for introductions! __Rock boats! Make ripples! Quick!” At fifteen Gauss solved the sigma; __Mozart’s "Serenade for Winds” Came at nine. Their shared enigma: __How to follow Wunderkinds Who scribbled words inspired __Till their artful fingers bled When Rimbaud was retired __And Chatterton was dead. previously published in The Lyric Daniel Galef’s comic verse has been published in Light Quarterly, Measure, and New York Magazine, and he is a featured author in the Potcake Chapbooks series of mini-anthologies from Sampson Low.