Ignus Fatuus

Ignus Fatuus

 

The only solitude is

Sleep or death

We were not clever enough

Kind to others and cruel to self

When self asked for mercy

and was denied

The holiest privacy remains

waiting on us

and all that was

misunderstood or abandoned

will come together

 

let my failure be your fortune

this that was broken

and careless

error

 

let it be known

that to know your own death

is to die twice

once really

and then hardly at all

 

let it be known

that there is nothing as ugly

in all it’s tangents

as the human beast

a trick set against the blood of your soul

 

let it be known

that solitude is the only

mercy

and the only

lover

 

let it be known

that a man need not be Christ

to be crucified

 

let it be known

that a man can be

crucified

each day

each moment

each breath

to sleep and awake

and (then) to be tormented again

 

let it be known

that a man can die

and die

and die

and die

and still feel the pain

and know he is dead

and still feel the pain

and know there is nothing he can do

and still feel

the pain

let it be known

 

let it be known

that the temples are nothing

and the bells are nothing

and fame is nothing

and victory is nothing

and sex is nothing

and that solitude brings madness

and the crowd brings madness

and drinks and eats the body

like a tiger

that there is no voice to speak with

no ear to hear

 

let it be known

there will be other men such as I

lifted for the lions mouth

burned down by false loves

tricked by kindness

missiled by intellect

dizzied by posy

sacrificed for profit

used as cheap labor

and these will be the kindest of happenings

compared to what will enter the eye

and ear

and the brain

and seep to the innards to begin their

death work

I pity all such brothers of mine

Who will follow me in the centuries

Unable to love because there is nothing to love

Unable to kill because there is nothing alive

Forever hanging and

bleeding and dizzied

By the beast

Human

The walls

The gardens

The sun

The flowers

The kisses

The flags

The seas

The animals

The food

The liquors

The paintings

The symphonies

All uselessness

 

Let it be known

That most men

Love when they can see

And they see each other

And they love this

Because they see very little

 

Let it be known

That I am bitter

and damned

and tired

and useless

 

let it be known

when the final hope goes

there remains but a staring at the dance

and a watching the feeble intercourse

of the idiots

with very little note taking

 

let it be known

that I am dead

but there is no anger

 

let it be known

that most men are dead

many years before burial

 

let it be known

that many men die in childhood

that many men are born dead

although their parts move

and they make sound

and grow

and advance

into adult behavior

and do things of

civilization

 

Let it be known

that these men never existed

and that their funerals

were extreme farce

and also the dead tears

for the already dead

 

let it be known

that the worms themselves

were nearer to truth

in that they did

not

cry

 

let it be known

that birth is not holy

that death is not holy

that life is not holy

 

let it be known

that I have bled without crowns

that I will bleed in a moment

that I will bleed forever

red

red

red

and the hawks will dance

within my bones

and rejoice

 

let it be known

that I do not die for man’s sins

but that I die for what man is

and for what I almost was

they- too little of anything

in myself lifted enough

to see the horror

to sicken

and go mad

and wilt

 

do not take as personal

what I say as life

altogether

or man

altogether

unless

on another plane

you consider yourself

a defender of life and man

which is only another natural weakness of the species

like a rat guarding it’s nest

and for which

I cannot hold you totally to blame

 

The only solitude is death

but not this death

not this death

not

this

death

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