NO LIGHT
Hearing all the wonders of death
I wish to experience that glory
To enter a world of angels and demons
God and the Devil
Leaving the boredom of this world
No more work and bills
No more slave work just to get a meal or two a day
Just getting ready to feast in Valhalla
As I prepare for the glory, put on my finest suit
I slit both my wrists
Lay in my king size bed which took me forever to afford
I look at all the things I own and laugh
I am finally free I think to myself
I leave no note and tell no one
After all, why bother? I will see them again soon enough
The pain in my wrist is gone now
I am close, I am so excited
I close my eyes and wait to see the light
At once I regret my actions
All I see is darkness.
>>7789318
>Yfw
The tarantula rattling at the lily’s foot
Across the feet of the dead, laid in white sand
Near the coral beach—nor zigzag fiddle crabs
Side-stilting from the path (that shift, subvert
And anagrammatize your name)—No, nothing here
Below the palsy that one eucalyptus lifts
In wrinkled shadows—mourns.
And yet suppose
I count these nacreous frames of tropic death,
Brutal necklaces of shells around each grave
Squared off so carefully. Then
To the white sand I may speak a name, fertile
Albeit in a stranger tongue. Tree names, flower names
Deliberate, gainsay death’s brittle crypt. Meanwhile
The wind that knots itself in one great death—
Coils and withdraws. So syllables want breath.
But where is the Captain of this doubloon isle
Without a turnstile? Who but catchword crabs
Patrols the dry groins of the underbrush?
What man, or What
Is Commissioner of mildew throughout the ambushed senses?
His Carib mathematics web the eyes’ baked lenses!
Under the poinciana, of a noon or afternoon
Let fiery blossoms clot the light, render my ghost
Sieved upward, white and black along the air
Until it meets the blue’s comedian host.
Let not the pilgrim see himself again
For slow evisceration bound like those huge terrapin
Each daybreak on the wharf, their brine-caked eyes;
—Spiked, overturned; such thunder in their strain!
And clenched beaks coughing for the surge again!
Slagged of the hurricane—I, cast within its flow,
Congeal by afternoons here, satin and vacant.
You have given me the shell, Satan,—carbonic amulet
Sere of the sun exploded in the sea.
>>7789318
I love that OP
