The Rope

What Joy
I’ve finally cut off my mother’s head
And she smiles a toothy smile
I choppped up my father
With the blade I honed
With sarcasm he laughs
His smell of old Tobacco
Floats in the air
Like an eternal flame.
Finally from within my bowels can I be born
From so many years of putrification
Idiotic suffering
Neurotic sex
Fear upon fear
In a whirlwind of incomprehension
And all of this for some supposed moral code
Pounded into my head
With pick and spade
And sacrosantly illusions
Abuse, incest, rape,
Stowed away beneath
The violence of the depraved
The secret : the hidden truth
The joy that bursts
Like fireworks
And a dance like
Stroke of lightning
That splits a tree
Before my eyes
A tree so deeply roote D
Branches reaching out
To the azure sky
The time that is to be is nothingness
And even less time behind
The présence of what is
Pushes aside all of this shit
Splashing around in my mouth
Oceans of tears
Have not managed to put out this flame
That dances since time immortal
This laughter that pushes aside
The sarcasm the gossip
The claws that tear to the bone
Leaving inpenetrable fussows
Filled with gravel and bituminous silvered inibriation
Reality has never held such beauty
Eyes wide open
In this squallid labyrinth
That manifests is grandeur