Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Book I Left in the Whore House




The Book I Left in the Whore House

We are not futile
We are strong
I see you among the mob
Dirty winds tearing furious clouds
Pulsating with life
All its own
A human organism
I go to you for theater
Replacing your dreams with screaming sirens
Your intriguing combinations
Words that change the world
Corrupting the moral order
I don’t need you
For the pain any more
I just need you
Too scared to queue up
A tug of war
Between beauty and horror
Serving tea and oranges
Hearing the boats go by
She told you everything
The secrets in my head
You were just a number
A doorstop for the dead
We fought
Until the night grew cold
And we unpacked our belongs
Those we hadn’t sold
I have tried to be free
To fly from this cage
That enslaves me
To the rational
We sing
In a midnight choir
The butcher’s daughter
Plays the piano
You talk so brave
Your feet so sweet
As you dance on the stage
The world your partner
You were famous then
A bright and shining star
I couldn’t touch your fire
Without getting burnt

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