PUT to sleep my dreams
and give me familiarity
send to me a ferocious
phenomenon of 1920s
where i find myself
where i find myself
again . . .
an age of dramatic call
of social and political
change — i prayed
i knew what i did
so many years ago
i became what i am
a gigantic uvula
of perturbed gesticulation
of all the faces passing by
i’ve no choice but to follow
bright lights, people, and the
moon at night and what i do
is so wrong; you’ll never
hear my feet or my presence
in the sharp fang of my teeth
I could never show my face
at noon and you’ll only see
me walking at night by a moon
I’ve a face unrevealed
and the hands of a priest
while i stalk you feeling
how trapped i’m in this life
like an innocent lamb
always walking by the light
of the moon; i’m the face
of a sinner and have no shape
while the moon hangs over you
:: 10042015 ::
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