Stuffed Man
You have begun to hang yourself.
The rope has encircled itself around.
It comes down fast, the weighted blaze,
The weighted blade, the final haze.
There is nothing for you to stand on,
When the trap door of the scaffold drops.
I love you, I cry for you, I wait for you.
But your are dead before the sentence is carried out.
You are nothing to me now but a risen corps.
The joy I once saw resurrected was nothing more than the light,
Of the morning sun offered to the eyes of a tunneling mole.
Once you said our love is your life.
You have committed suicide.
Bon matin, le monde,
Bon matin, la solitude.
Last night I was privileged enough to see two Lovers.
They were in suits, young business men.
Their joy was overpowering,
And stuffed pigs dared not look when one kissed the other,
On the shoulder.
Stuffed hogs, stuffed dogs,
Stuffed men,
Stuffed women,
Stuffed animals,
I looked and I worshiped the light ablaze in their love,
And you,
Were not there,
Stuffed man.
No comments:
Post a Comment