The world is not
worth mentioning while
12 disciples shy away
heavy in the night-
By glowing embers, the savior
has fallen, surely fallen,
and placed beside those
in rape-recovery; dying men
reborn, but not by innocence.
The world is not
reconciled by waves of motion,
when action speaks
only by way of eruption.
The hardening word.
It is not spoken
with adoration,
causation without correlation!
One would say
and says it
only to find
himself alone in the night,
burying his mother, that
thickening flesh, solidity
in hatred for a breast
forever filling his mouth
with curdled milk.
What sorrow there is
for Man!
What pity grinds in his bones,
if only to penetrate
that hardening word?
He is lost by volition
and baffled by silence,
and so becomes
a disciple
burning in the night.
The world is not
as merciful
as memory is forgetful,
I am
all
that I am.