Songs of Leaving
Losing his own human question he sat on the edge of the moon,
beside dark water to dispatch miserable memories. The partypiece
was barely beyond boyish; Goyesque. rotting thatch adorning a bleak
house of windows stalking; human nature suspended like dead legs
slung from a wet coat.
An uneasy chair in an unfaithful room camping out on Dawson Street,
waiting for the Darwin tree to sprout its rain of caterpillars. 10 cents
of loving earned pounds of endless grief; pernicious. The scribble of his
gospel; faithless of divine held tight. Disregard, always a sacrifice.
Entering the asylum of bedtime Sentimentality made carnage of the early
hours. Then a dispatch of miserable memories, into an anatomy of a kill.
Its shiver ran along decent houses cupping tea and bread into piety and
ruthless laughter.
Taking a swipe at grace, like a backhand of mouth to bawdy drunkenness;
Silence. A frozen chill settles in, of loving the death in ourselves, carved,
into the slow ice of losing the idea of Someone.
