This is the title of a new sequence of poems I’m working on. Here’s just one of the sections.
He has gathered many heads
They are the trophies of his encounters
Their eyes gaze at him in adoration
Their mouths shape the syllables of his name
Their ears hear only the song he sings to them
Which tells of how he severed each one from its body
And held it up for the whole world to see.
At night, by the campfire, they encircle him
And the light of the flames animates their features
They smile and weep
They gabble and gibber in a strange baby-language
Until with a raised hand he quietens them
Stitches their lips
And turns each one outward
To protect him
From the endless and empty dark.