I destroy creation and create it anew
        at every moment.
If a stench lingers, it is only to remind us
        that each creation gives way to more love.

I need the music, I need a way.
I understand so little that I am crushed
        by time's passing.
Your basic elements, your distances, your beginnings
        and ends all so cruel to me.
I need the music for a time to be.
I need the lodge for a place to be.
I need the people, your loving so electric
        between us.
That music, trying to crack open
        my dumb heart.

                            All things long to know you,
                            my love of dark light.

I am not sure
who can answer
but I still ask,
why is ecstasy
so embarrassing?

I come to a wall inside of myself
on this side of which
I have nothing to say.

Still, let's make love
so the rain will fall,
or at least let's start a fire
because you can not
be born alone.

I hear wounded music
accompanying a limping dance,
so I hunt the moon
when it’s low on the horizon
because that’s where it is vulnerable
but still so succulent and auspicious.

Come and know me.
I am going to a far off place-
two moons, twenty whales
with suffering celestial eyes,
seven black-headed snakes,
three dark women, and one house.

It will be difficult
for us all
when I return,
because then the salvation
will appear as the suffering.

The ****** Devotee
tries to answer himself.
His mind is confronted
by all of its absolutes
of which the sunrise
and the sunset have no use.
He sits on a stone and mutters,

First, the gods win.
Then, the demons win.

and,

I am alone when I walk
at night, because the unborn
won't come from their hiding place
behind the new moon.

and,

Even more than the living
or the dead,
the unborn burden me
with countless good intentions.

You see, all his thoughts are fragments
because they accelerate themselves
through history to arrive
at the total ruin before the end.

If I dream about love
just a little bit longer
and a little bit better,
then creation will buckle
under all my conceptions and
I'll offend the guardians of fertility.

Again, these thoughts are so great
they are not even human, but that's
the result of dialogue with the unborn
when you try to resolve the unanswerable.

To succeed, be sure
to slaughter the innocent.
A fever is a fractured
wisdom which hallucinates
landscapes that long
to host your victories.
To the East is clarity.
To the West is attainment.
Even in this dangerous world,
momentary trust is the wisest thing.

Aggression holds my attention
like watching our slow roll
forward into doom.

Evil is a man's business,
and right now,
business is real good.
Even history cannot harbor
the infidels
who make civilization sublime.

Our suffering is a thick liquid
that saturates our scalps,
but wait long enough,
and we will see something beautiful,
like compassion between two bodies,
or death unmasked as eternity.