Doing in the figure of a lamb
the feats of a lion
has been a way of surviving
Perplexed and helpless
down amongst the dust
or in springs of indifferent waters
Oh, let me perish in the fire!
From the cellars full of dark air
up and down the winding staire
is there anybody there?!
If I should see them tonight
let their heads by slickly combed
their blue coats brushed
and their hair so nice
let them come tonight
let them utterly consume me with a kiss
this is how it is for me
is this how it is for you?
It must be different
and it must be strong
If my attempt be so much glorified
I will no longer trust
we are living in a disinherited portion
of a whole
The wind shall not sow
The clouds will not reap
and we will perish in the wilderness
we are unseen
we are unseeing
son and ghost
set up as father
idols of the parasites
spilling from the vaults
you touch me with your noble anger
and within me calls ancestral songs
No comments:
Post a Comment