Layer by layer the wailing wall still weeps leaks life still happy to receive prayers to gods who no longer reside no longer invest in their attempt to subdue a fierce people. And the river offers up her long laughter below.
Prompted by a rock wall at Colden Clough, Lumb Bank, nr Heptonstall, West Yorkshire, UK, former residence of Ted Hughes.
Your words reek with lies You've hurt me too many times I'll never trust a word out your mouth You saw me cry with my heart spilled out Yet you did it again After saying "Never again..." Our mother can't see through your poison My tolerance has been growing thin "Stop doing this!" I scream and wail Don't you dare spit another tale. My soul aches with despair hidden Anything but happiness feels forbidden
lying can do so much damage were you "sorry" you lied or "sorry" you got caught?
I scream at her. I tell her she's ugly And too loyal, That she doesn't work hard enough. She is not enough. She is nothing. I wail at her That she is too open, Too soft, Too forgiving. That everything she gets She deserves. I scream awful tears and hit her. She shatters- I stare at my bloodied hands and broken mirror. I am nothing.
It's going to be a jolly grand day Nothing will get in the way This life is boring Time to go snoring I'm done with 'noRmALitY' And ready for a fatality I buy a lot No food for thought I buy what I can find Who cares if it's a crime? I'm looking for airtime This is out of hand... As I take more and more sand
"I'm HUNGRY!"
OH, iT hAs HIt Me I'M FEEling PReTTY fuNkY I WAnt TO dANCE I Want TO PrANce i SEe a lEDGE i'm ON tHe EDgE I loOk DOWN REaDy For THE cOuNTdowN
Relatives of dead convicts with debauched faces and curly headed sailors sing morose melodies to the wail of saxophones screaming strings clashing cymbals and the rattle of kettle drums.
