When our light has come
And dispersed
To another crack in the universe;
Somewhere shut off from those
Who are so acutely delirious, a place
Where you can mingle with a docile smile
And weary half-shut pupils;

Somewhere shrouded in half-cut peace
And devoured by dwindling creases
In bone-white cheeks,

When the light
Has found this place
I shall roam the foreign streets, crawling
My way through the sleeping bodies
And smokey brick retreats, squeezing
Through huddles of gristly hands
That sit upon embers and
Bloated but empty stomachs,

I shall ignore all this, and rather
Look upon the sides of buildings
Where pictures may linger
Of children grasping red balloons
And of husbands
Washing up famished teaspoons,

For this is their retreat, the voices
Of “wake up, wake up” are tired now
And have little reason to compete,

And when I am asked why I stand here,
Waiting on the curb in my damaged demeanor -
I shall say;

“I am unmoored and I am uncrowned,
I have fallen from the cracked marble cliffs
And I have been banished to the ground, do
They want me to ask their questions now
Or shall we tuck ourselves in and go to bed -  

‘Am I dead,
Am I not yet dead ?’ ”

And the crowds will reply
In their frayed utterings
And silver-laced mutterings;

“We do not know
The queries you seek, or
Why you pace upon
The edge of the street, alas
We do not know what it is
You seek at all”.

And so,
The brick and concrete
Will have to do, it is where
I have made my bed
And where I shall lay too -

My wings are clipped and
My smile is cracked, but
I am not yet dead, only my
Hands appear to bleed red,
Guilty hands that forget
To tow the line
And knead the bread,

Now I sit dipped in the gutter
And I natter and I mutter;

“Where does the Morningstar go
When the gates are closed
And the couples have gone to bed
And all that can be said,

‘Am I dead,
Am I not yet dead ?’ ”

These words that I muster
And create,  
The words that I bleed
And paint
Take on the form
Of a twin-headed snake
And they let out a snigger
And a slither, intertwined
And brittle, my
Voice passes on
Thinner than before.