Sunday, September 30, 2007

A death certificate to a living man

To Her, Gilmoe

A death certificate to a living man

Walking among the rocks
Hands are empty
Heart is ashy
What does it mean
When some nights
You sit to cry
After a long stay
Waiting for a laugh?

Is that true you have harassed
The leaves fell on your days
Or intimidated
What used to intimidate you
Whenever there was a sky?

Is it fair?
That Autumn landed on your heart
And the doctor
Who was supposed to treat you
Held a truce with the germs!!

From park to park
From day to day
I am sleeping under
The trenches of strange hearts

This year has come early
To show me the fangs
Of the time
One brought the claws of justice
And knives Rights

How can you then
Give peace to the wildness of people
Listen to their vacuum
And clean their bankruptcy

How can you then
Make your way
Through the skulls
Of lies

How can you make
Investigators believe
Your witness’s absence

How can
This year come
With swords in eyes

How can you obtain
A death Certificate
While you still
Saunter on the embers of days

London 28/02/07