If mankind is a forest and you then a tree then I am the one who stands sentry and watches for signals in a distant belfry one of if by land and two if by sea a position not revered watching danger near and screaming curdled-canticles dear that fire is sweeping and the kindling is fear the smoke's in the distance – it doesn’t just appear you frogs oblivious to the quick melting veneer to afraid to strip it away, to look in the mirror and see yourself for what you are; for what we're becoming – something less than...
Stop:
And you think there's truth in this verbal climbing but it's just that what I'm saying was designed to be rhyming and is syncopated to give it an ear-pleasing timing like a...a........a ***-***-*** heartbeat a heartbeat pinging unbirthing mountains on a static-shot blue monitor in a faraway hospital where all the rooms are painted black and the Doctors curse themselves.
Cursed like we are cursed, to our death marched and the only sound ringing is the bleating of a New Orleans trumpet in a funeral march – our coffin into the dirt sank and left behind these idolatrous sycophants who have like pigs at a trough suckled the very marrow of genius from our bones, then spit back but a slim shadow of our once impeccant brilliance.
Like the unborn galaxies of celestial mothers, like the toxic lessons of a distempered youth, like the sullen, momentary terror of a child before sleep: let it be said that we are forgotten.
Let it be said that it is as though we never were, that the banshee curses we have screamed at the horrors and the inequities we have witnessed are for naught, are disappeared, are into the ether ****** until the great unknowable beyond has become the altar of our yesterdays, forgiving the domain of God and forgetting that of man: show me a man of faith and I will show you one of fear; man the animal, the scourge, man the fiend who cannot forgive, merely erase the memory and think not of the transgressions done to him
Forget us and we will forget what you have done to us; but do not ask us to forgive the pillage of our sacred rights, to forgive the devolution of our ideas into the mire of the ordinary, to forgive at all- No man is not an animal who forgives; leave that to God and **** him for it.
Forget we ever were; it is a greater kindness than to remember the mutant bile we will become.
All of which is to say this:
Earlier I wandered outside and heard cries behind the closed doors that guard our loyal lies and this boy sitting near with a gold hooped ear called it a ghost town then took another drag and tears slipped past his locked up frown. I'll never know his name