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A Visitor In the Night

old Mephistopheles

may’ve tricked Faust,

but he won’t

get me

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I’m Listening

I spoke with God today,

Out in the Ocean off of Brigantine New Jersey specifically,

near the south jetty.

God said storm clouds

and sheets of rain,

Whipping West winds and swells high as trees.

God said seagulls hung in the slate-gray sky

like kites over the Ocean

And blasts of arctic spray on my back,

and the Taste

of salt in my mouth.

I said tears and hoots

wordless howls and hollers.

I laughed and coughed up lungfulls of that batismal water

and let those winds rip through my salt-stiff hair.

I gave my body to the water

To God

I let it throw me and bury me

envelope me

Destroy me, if that was what God desired.

Yet God said a wet Marco stumbling out onto the beach,

smiling like a lunatic.

God happened to be eating at the same pinelands barbecue pit as I,

for I saw God in the faces of old wrinkled laughing African-American men and women,

and in the children playing in the sandy parking lot

among the pine cones and dried needles.

I saw God again that night, in the light of the setting sun

reflecting off of the sign for Route 40

and in the fireworks in the summer night

Exploding over the Pine Barrens

and in a flipped over Jeep on the side of the road,

flaming and spitting out smoke.

It’s been some kind of day


Further Instructions

In this world

There are Farmers

and there are Hunters,

and I ask myself,

‘Which one are you?’


Helplessness

You are Helpless because you make it so,

and therefore

You disgust me.

The helpless

Cannot

be helped;

Let them snivel in their self-inflicted

Wounds and woes.

Get up

and take

what is yours to possess,

or fade.


HaHa Ha!

If all this is a joke,

Why aren’t you laughing?

It’s so fucking funny,

Oh my god

I think I’m winning

this game…

If you want to be

a winner with me,

Than you’d better do the same.


in the fold

As I run silently along rooftops, Bare feet carrying me swiftly through the Washingtonian night, I cannot recognize the sound ‘Marco’, for then it is as meaningless to me as all other Man-sounds; On Nights like these I am reborn, and I have been saved! There is nothing to lose and everything to gain, for what is living when I am owned by possessions? by reputation? I am Dangerous; everyone is when they begin to realize what they are capable of, and what this world really is; a fold, filled with sweet sheep and rabbits who are slowly being slaughtered. (all I do is speed them along, it’s a mercy really.) Upon my fur falls that Olympic nectar rain O, the Rain! To mask my scent and make it a Perfect hunt! I am wild, I am free, and I am in the fold; Some dip shit shepherd Has let down his guard, and for this he will pay in flesh. The night is alive with sounds, fast sounds, Wind through Douglas Firs, the hiss of a bus. Sliding down shadowed ladders and through locked doors I am taken, and all around me I see Prey. They have never seen a predatory creature before, and they do not shy away at my approach. I give a Wolfish grin and shake their hands as they let me in, and in my shining eyes is glee and Murder. You’d better run, rabbit run cause here I come to knock down the door and set you

Free


Pain

Try to run from it but

the ground is

a treadmill. Try

to fight it but

you’re punching

a brick wall. Try

to hide from it but

it’s impossible to hide

from yourself.


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