Death (Part Four) poem
Fish-oil, magnesium, potato-eaters
vent your spleen
the houses aren't enough
the articles aren't enough
no boy in this land
can say where the long handed Gods
have moved on
turned aside and fell worse than Peter
across the centuries
There come the countless injuries
and we make genuflection
We men who've learned to glut ourselves on curses
I'll take up a weapon for this
Spite in the alleys
In the swimming streets at night
They swim with the novelty of fear
"They", but am one of them
And if I knew death
I'm not really wiser
Than throughout the years
One of those buildings faces unchanging
Looking out over the river waiting
As if spread out to the crack of doom
The deserted streets will be able to hear it
It will come through their nervous system
And make them scarper
In thunder and lightning
I put my hand on the wall
In a familiar spot
I try to catch my breath
There's really little difference between these streets and I
Both have grown unnerved
The rags on our lines drying out in the morning
It would be sweet to sleep in the belly
Of what we can know
3:32 am
Won't you come?
I don't know what's wrong with me
I tried my best to put my mind on something else
But you know...
I watched you go to the door
And age ten years as you crossed the threshold
You would hardly notice it
I have seen you walk as if you were going somewhere
While all doors were closed to you
You weren't able to stop until you reached the sea