Novocaine


Let it out and you will see them
Worn-out knees, arms extended
Amphorae full of honey to offer
Let it out and you will see
Deathly facades, filled with lust
Staring at the nest, thirsty for dirt
Let it out and you will see them
Wrapped in songs, porters of an oblivion
That’s never forgotten and never returns
Let it out and they will come.

Here I keep it, locked
Here I keep it in heavy chains
Not searching for citizens, not hungry for life
Here I have it, under my heel
On the dark soil that stinks and smokes
Here I keep it locked
I can no longer stand it barfing its breath
On everything that blooms, on everything I love.

Let it out and they will learn
What you are worth, what you drag, what you want
Where you come from and what you go by
Let it out and they will see
Let it out and they will know
What you’re made of and what keeps you there
The lewd wounds jabbed with blood
Let it out and they will know
Let it out and they will cry
For the wrong that is you and they no longer defy
Their dry eyes solely give birth to sand
Let it out
And they shall be saved.

Here I keep it, locked
Here I keep it with nails through its neck
Its Gods are not missing, it’s craving for wreck
Here I have it, with the rope around its throat
Far from my own self’s crooked orbit
Here I keep it locked
Not enduring the laughter of war
Not sustaining the scent of the smoke.

Let it out and you will learn
What you’re made of, which snake you hold in your palms
To which end you move forward, in which madness you match
Whom you’re taking down with you, whom you betray and where
Which dreams you would live in if you woke up elsewhere
Let it out and you will know
The world how it ends
How the time grows older
And the blossom decays
Let it out and you will learn
To look and to see
To cherish the doom
And to bear the end
Let it out and you will see.

It looks back at me
It smiles
And lights up a smoke
And asks:
“What’s the worse that can happen?”

And I have no ready answer
I cannot think one wrong
That will be good enough
And I blush just a little
That I must for once dawn
With the way to explain
That I can no more infer
What to do to myself.

“What’s the worse that can happen?”
And it is no consolation
And it is no solace
It’s the premise of an old design
It’s the search for a toast
For a spondee, a sacrifice.

But what is there to say
What to say when the ashes don’t burn
What to say when the grand
If are little
They burn out so fast
What to find and to speak
What to find and to lose

This I respond
This I ask
“What do I have to lose?”
And it is no consolation
And it is no solace.

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