These questions sound so numb
As I lug a skull empty and aching
Full of marks but no answer.
I stop, bathing bleeding batteries in warm raw sunlight
And smoke long cigarettes
One at a tell-tale time
Hoping to chance upon disaster answers
To questions I will never know.
I have refined myself to obscurity
Carved my branch to barbarous point,
Whittled stick grasping for the clouds;
I never did stop to let it grow
I have nullified my life to herbs and numbers
As nothing ensures, time upon time.
The sweet sound of our songbirds drowned
In the screaming turbines.
Everything dances to the creeping millimetres
And suddenly I am cold once more
The lone mad spark
That should burn across the diaphragm laughs
Of somone who is experienced
Of somone who understands
Anyone at all for a matter of choking facts
That bull a fine china life.
This spark is washed away by a tide
This spark is washed away and leaves nothing
But embracing embers
Alone, cooling upon an endless shore.
With this I begin to pray
I hold no face of god before me
No idol in my hands
I pray to something greater than myself.