Rather Than

 

What sort of path
has led me here
wanting only to be   alone   tonight
only the mist seeping like river fog over my tongue
down my neck
knuckles torn but tamed in lion's cream
street light creep crawling over my wet spread cuck flesh
dressed in the kingly garb of pagan poetry
my mother
somewhere on a maiden path again
prays to the great grey christ against

kind of sinning makes the moon smile
my fingers float a moment
string of that planetary violin vibrates
from here
to forever
tonight a perfect melody
playing o'er the grand spaceways of the Universe

mother
I'm alive more than you can imagine
in touch with the true god
and the true goddess
equal happy
but equal
sad

I'd rather be here

alone

tonight

rather than
be with you.

TA

(painting by John Berkey