"Whose life is the most meager,
the monkey or the organ?"
To screech and wind the
same dreadful tune
a mildew forming on your screws
What a way to grind your gears,
counter-happy through the years
Or
To pantaloon a penny nearer,
wearing outfits scavenged
from old graves
To jingle shackles,
worship Cesar's
To have a smile filled with nails,
a heart fashioned of broken stares
"But who has the most meager existence?
The undertaker or the priest?
The coffin or the corpse?"
To love the man who appoints the pain
to the monkey and the box
To praise the God that has made love
a traitorous paradox
To be the one that bears the wounds
of every rapist, child, or sage
That is to live the worst of lives,
the bleakest death
That is to understand the blackest hole