Along Molasses Trail (Periphery’s Vision)
Fire hydrants run empty. Along
Molasses Trail Ladies with slashed
breasts wait to be found.
Veins broken. Spaghetti
like intersections of cars, cables
and trees grace the view of my
binoculars scattering vision, distracting
the cool redness of a diseased
heart, her mind in a mode known only to
Einstein and those of fantastic
imagination, sees painful futures,
the lessons of those who claim to be
strangers, and
mirrored souls in
rapists and victims
all in one
all are one
and so they say
The hardest player is
the observe
who is pained to death
just standing there.
I don’t understand
what is wrong with me
I keep walking around
in circles
endless driving rain
splatters my cheeks,
in circles
Albatross with pomegranates in his beak
extends his wing
beyond my reach
Caught together
Him in the offering
Me in the grasping
Around and around
Haven’t we turned this corner
before?
SSSHHH!
We believe in the life of the dead
Murmuring and moaning
Peace, he smiles
I come in peace
And serenity
In so long there has been
no serenity
Waking and waiting
This is hell, isn’t it?
SSSHHH!
Look. I don’t want to look. It didn’t happen to me it
didn’t happen to me
it didn’t happen to me. Nothing’s the same anymore. I’m
not the same
anymore. I used to have
faith
but I don’t anymore.
I don’t know how to do this. How do you trust anyone?
How do you trust
anyone, I don’t trust anyone People are capable of all
sorts of atrocities.
How do you trust people? I simply must in order to, I
must learn to trust
myself. How do you go on? It didn’t happen. How do you
go on? I don’t want
to look. I don’t want to look. It possesses me and not
in a nice way. I
hate, I hate, I must remember what happened.
What happened? What did happen? Must remember, must never
let it happen
again. At least you have a choice some must live it some
must live it some
must live it
Falling Falling Falling Falling
No one was there but me no one was there but me no one
was there but me,
How did you let it happen? No one was there but me and
him and him and him
and him, There is a hell, I don’t want to look, There
is a hell, evil, I’ve
been to hell and there is no redemption, I don’t want
to look I don’t want
to look I don’t want to look
Falling Falling Falling Falling
Go.
He slides out of the bed
Smoke, puff, stare
I lay frozen
Still water scared.
Cradling the baby we named Magenta
Periphery, Magenta
and the three swords I’m tied to
I check them all at the gate
To roam the alleyways
in search of a saintly place
where to set my things
and rest awhile.
But for the bells outside my door
Ting, Ting, Ting – Tong
The murmuring of the horseguards
the clanging of the hooves
the whips and dust
I sign myself away
to people who
nervously pace
eyes wide, terrified
Having seen too much of life
Confined to our rooms
Having seen too much of life
Crawling through tunnels
Having seen too much of life
Rewarded for ambition
Having seen too much of life
Blinded by the absence of light.
While in Connecticut
I prayed for my life
the chimes knock and the men come and go
there was a crisp wind and the leaves, brown and green,
strong and weak,
rustles and the branches bent ever so slightly against
the coming force,
still unheard by those present
I pray for my life
so unsteady the boat so unsteady the ocean so unsteady
streams land and rivers
in total there are seven churches in town, three
gas stations, one school, firehouse and
funeral home
where people rest
where people rest
Today I rested and when I came to there was
no sound no voice no wind no thunder and no sun
I rested
from people, the voices in my head which are me and
from him and him and him and him. Indeed I did rest and
when night
came I couldn’t fall asleep
Still they told me to rest
And when the time came to wake up, awake I was before
everyone else because
I was tired of being God, tired of being crazy and tired of being dead