Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Wednesday, August 20, 2014


whenever the such and such
rears up and up and up
pouring coffee in the emptiness
drinking darkness from their cups

and the villagers all cry
they spill their beans and cry
they fall upon the barrow mounds
and cry

no one remembers any promises
no one has that one receipt
creeping vines at midnight
creeping at your feet
everyone must die
no one remembers why
you'd think it was cold winter
with all their frozen eyes

and the villagers all cry
they spill their beans and cry
they fall upon the barrow mounds
and cry

i self me alone the one
i self me the lonesome one
i look upon it with eyes so wide
all the world lays deep inside
deep inside of the crime

no one remembers early spring
when the smallest and most joyful things
were breaking through like wedding rings
we were married just like gods

no one remembers any promises
no one has that one receipt
creeping vines at midnight
creeping at your feet
everyone must die
no one remembers why
you'd think it was cold winter
with all their frozen eyes

and the villagers all cry
they spill their beans and cry
they fall upon the barrow mounds
and cry

****

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