WHAT IT IS NOT
IT AIN'T VIOLIN STRINGS RESOUNDING OLD ANTHEMS,
IT AIN'T A THICK AND GREASY FOG PARTING US FROM DAYLIGHT,
IT AIN'T ANIMAL CARCASSES RESTING ON FROZEN SILKY LAKES,
IT AIN'T OCCULT TOTEMS HANDMADE OUT OF MUD AND CLAY,
NO IT AIN'T
IT AIN'T THE SHOUTS OF THE WILDERNESS TO THE MOON AND STARS,
IT AIN'T THOUSANDS OF LITTLE GREY BIRDS FLYING UP THROUGH THE SKIES,
NO IT AIN'T
IT AIN'T THE ELECTRIC THUNDER CRACKING OVER THE DESERT FIELDS,
IT AIN'T A GREEDY STORM REVIVING SOME CHILDHOOD MEMORIES, NO IT AIN'T
IT AIN'T A FOREST FIRE EAGER TO LICK OUR FLESH AND BONES,
IT AIN'T SATAN, IT AIN'T GOD,
IT AIN'T LIFE, BUT IT AIN'T DEATH EITHER
FOR DEATH'S BEEN KILLED A TATTOOED NUMBER OF TIMES
DEATH SLAUGHTERED TO DEATH,
NOT TRANSCENDED, OR TRANSFORMED
AND THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO HEAR
BUT INFINITE WHISPERED PRAYERS,
A ROSARY OF GHOSTLY ABORTED CHANTINGS
FILLING UP THE COLD WIND
SEE THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO SEE
BUT MILLIONS OF EMPTY EYES STILL HAUNTING OUR FEAR
SEE THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO HEAR
BUT MILLIONS OF MUTE VOICES STILL HAUNTING OUR EARS.
C.D.
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