Sickly, twisting tinges of the torso’s crispy
hinges,
The pain, the constant pain, pain appears and
sets to work,
Just a pleb for one great curse, each division
working harder
On the bones, on the muscles, on the kidneys
and the lungs,
Yielding yawns, growing groans, and mining moans,
But the spawn of the faction never dawns on me, just lends me
to the lessening
Less and less the love, the lively risings,
heavy are my limbs,
The cramps and creaks are vultures laughing on
a freshly fallen scarecrow,
I have done this; I have made the body bleed,
The breath reduce,
The mind induces only hope, such strong and
silver hope, irrational!
But such a cloak to cushions daggers, such a
cloak to keep the darkness warm,
And arm in arm we cape and grope the devil’s
days, the hangman’s rope,
The blackest dogs of sweet mislay,
Super, we are hero, hope and I, hopeful heroes,
getting by, learning to cope,
Who knows where the next bad hand will come
from, stretching, taking,
Seizing, choking, who knows when that hand will
lay upon my neck its tightest hold
And gently sway and rock me far away,
Far from sickly, twisted tinges of the torso’s
crispy hinges,
Far from all dismay,
Who knows when I’ll hate the hand that takes my
pain away,
And hope, still blowing in the absent-minded
wind, she asks of me
To be a pessimist,
To be in the right mind and to be wrong of all
the things that do me wrong,
To be wrong and to have life again, however
long,
However long a life I’ve left, to use it to be
wrong of all the things that tell me youngness is long gone and set in stone is
death’s strong throng,
To be wrong too of the hand that longs to take
me far away,
And the sickly, twisting tinges of the torso’s
crispy hinges would be oiled and I would bow, down as low as I could bow, and
kiss the ground and would not rise until my eyes had cried a night of cries,
and with them washed I’d watch my water dry in new sunrise,
Under a sun that never shun before, a sun that
didn’t spell ‘goodbye’ that wasn’t counting down when it came up, just rose in
all its glory, just to say I am the sun and always will be, there is nothing
man in me, and hope and I could say the same, that we’re the sun,
And when we’re up we’re up, we shine, and when
we’re gone we’re gone.