I sat next to Death
In a ***** and dark barn.
"Take a swig of ***
And taste the smoke, brother.
I'm cooking humans,
Like pine-nuts, in the cauldron. "
She said, smoking a pipe.
"In the dry and gray wilderness
Called 'life' I got them;
They are, like oysters, food:
The shells of flesh houses
Tasteless and slimy mucus,
The watery rheum of the soul,
That some God in there sneezed. "
"But such oysters have no pearls?"
My ambition asked.
"Nearly all, not" Death,
Chewing, belched:
“But the heart of some
Rots and inflammates in strange islands:
The dreams, the fantasies,
The most durable daughters of the soul;
But even such diamonds I break
And eat like peas porridge."
And at that I rose disturbed
By Death, who I could not trust
And went about my way.
"Come back soon, dear oyster."
Called the woman enrobed,
"For Death finds all, eventually."