Things We Dreamt We Died For

Flags of all sorts.
The literary life.
Each time we dreamt we’d done 
the gentlemanly thing,
covering our causes
in closets full of bones
to remove ourselves forever 
from dearest possibilities,
the old weapons re-injured us, 
the old armies conscripted us, 
and we gave in to getting even, 
a little less like us
if a lot less like others.
Many, thus, gained fame
in the way of great plunderers, 
retiring to the university
to cultivate grand plunder-gardens 
in the service of literature, 
the young and no more wars. 
Their continuing tributes 
make them our greatest saviors, 
whose many fortunes are followed 
by the many who have not one.