Monday, August 25, 2008

//The Pariah and The Parasol//

//The Pariah and The Parasol//

I’d rather speak without sugar on my lips
but again and again

Life is played precisely like bingo
Scott-free,
like a sin begot.

Sometimes, it drinks to spring
under a green parasol,
and leers at the servitrisse
…like a pariah,
…stinking of perfume.
How meaningless the mist is
In the face of life’s only truth
Firmly,
tucked away
in the darkness.

In little and in large,
Now you see him

Left standing
in the sun
and
silence

Love and destruction, life’s dear tax:
Ringing
((i mpl ac abl e )),
implicit
outside his breast
gleaming scarlet
without tongue
without lung
Shame is shone As
Life and Death
as life’s only truth, going together hand in hand.




The spacing is quite strange and there's supposed to be an effect at the end in which the lines can be lined up in such a way that it's read in two complimentary ways.

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