older than the joy of loneliness.
And again: those beautiful black birds,
the rooks, waiting for bits of stale bread
while three storeys high, I cast them spells.
And again: the harsh coughs of gamblers
and visionary loons limping to kiosks,
and the curses of sobering drunks.
And again: the smoke of burning coal
wed to the melancholy rumour
of faintly pealing cathedral bells.
And again: those eternal grey skies,
prostrating, still praying upside down…
The tears of horror in their eyesreflect the fury of the sunlifting the curtain over dawn.They know that Orlov’s Reds were there:a priest lies bludgeoned on the lawn,and Christian Spain lies struck at prayer.
She’s come so very far,but her blue Polish eyesno longer see the fliesbuzzing above her head.She does not hear her friendknocking at the door.This is her journey’s end,the faithful silly dear.Christ does not shed a tear,not for the meek and poor.He looks down from the wall,with both arms open, heartsacred, eyes blind to all,truly not…
I said: ‘Father, I’m afflicted;my spine and every bonein my body hurts.My feet are swollen,my tongue is dry.Please, please free mefrom this heavy burden.’He said: ‘No, I’ll decide.’But ‘I am unworthy,fat, old and ugly.I have no purpose here.’‘You are my messenger,touching the browsof the innocent and young.’
imagining the faceof the girl, her life abandonedby the midnight sky.So I placed an asterin her tiny skullwhere a glimmering eyehad been, and then I asked herto please forgive us all.
in white as they unknot his mind with straps,as they unsicken—free his soul with pins.The pins feel bad, unlike the flames that flyin pastures, suns atop a crimson barn,the straw inside a bed for dreams, the dumbat prayer, at prayer. Amid the solemn dust,the horses neighing, childhoods gone amuck,the wheel of torture turns like heresy.The…
the ensign is assisted down the chuteso neither flank nor limb can catch a snag.Then at last his sunken eyes see light,and he sets foot into the promised land.Effulgent plankton there redeems his sight,Elysium of bright seaweed and sand.How glorious his underwater grave,even though above, the stone-faced captainsees a guilty spectre in each wave,and dejection…
