Only God Knows Why


Hide In My Town (Babe)
May 7, 2010, 12:53 am
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , ,

Sleep problems. I’m too ratty to write an op ed piece today so here’s some new poetry that’s still in the process of being worked on. Let me know what you think and get in on the process while it’s still breathing and bleeding.
I have a clear idea of the feeling it’s about, but I won’t ruin yours by telling you.

The Passover
Hide in my town, babe
Hide in my town,
Bleakly fleeing,
Run in on your broken shins,
Under the city walls and
Past the nightguards.
Though they know your face
They won’t stop you at the gate this time.
They will do their duty,
Like their rusty halberds
Of standing tall and straight –
Of resigning not to flinch when you skulk by.

Draw in the sweet night air,
Wend your way through my dirty, unkept streets
The open doors will burn upon you brightly like watchful, weary-lidded eyes
But my people will beckon you in, nonetheless.

Drink deep from the well
The water is clean
I have removed
The broken bloated bodies
I had been keeping there.
Wash out the blood from your mouth
And spit it back into the deep, murky river:
Let it nourish the tangled weeds below,
Let it disappear underneath the bridge, my cold love.

You needn’t fear the bile I had for you
The shining monument of the city’s square,
It is solidified and its edges
Are sanded down smooth –
It is defunct
And safe
But once, ah once, it was fresh and jagged,
Ready to spring forth with gnashing teeth
When you came near,
When I came near.

Enter into their homes dear,
Dip into their door-mouths open wide in gloam,
I will paint my bright blood across the frames,
Let it shine out,
A lighthouse,
To guide your fear by,
And with a quiet sigh,
I shall see that you shall, once again, be passed over.

I shall enclose you indoors
Enfold you with clean linen and warm towels.

And though I shall protect you with the same arms
That carry my derision for you,
The puppet people I have attached to the end of their fingers
Will dance at the end of their strings
And in the morning,
I shall make them
Quietly water the luscious flowerbeds
Outisde the window,
Where you lay inside, sleeping.
(Hide in my town babe, Hide in my town)

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