The Outsider (Part III)

This is a continuation. To start from the beginning, click here.

II. BRING THE PAIN

The wagon they rode in, these indifferent children of the earth,
Made rough love to the road, whereas its crew,
Bound to each other with unabdicated ecstasies and unconsidered dreams
Behind which a golden veau slouches in their six
(If you don’t have a shield, you better ax somebody!)
Their Night impaled by oncoming halogen eyes
Freely flashing the teeming masses’ yearnings as
Instamatic enlightenment scorched from within,
Their silken dalliance undone from their suitcases;
Thoughts of hops and stolen pickaxes
Undaunted, laughing in the face of their strange nameless tagalongs, summoning
Commodus, Didius Julianus, and Elagabalus—cheating, dumb-lucky
And perverse in aspect; vitriol riding the waves
Across the deading border, they gathered
To witness a Very Special Episode,
Hailstones breaking the surface of the fountain’s waters
Pitting the sides of the silver bowl.
A squamous vest variegated with threads
Brilliant green and purple, gilded buttons to hold the man,
This eidolon of Hermes in reverse.
Above the question mark of his existence one found
The beam of Father’s scales still teetering
But destined to come down on his side as surely
As they did for Homer’s Patty; within this dark wood
Lay that which should not be roused
From slumbering tomb, while all he really sought
Was his ultimate Broadway.
Sapphic boredom met the bloody slaughterbench
Of Cambodian history; lecherous Chircharogne
Swallowing fire, wailing, argumentum ad misericordiam.
The wolf is at the door.
Going to emergency, going to jail, cry out
For the approaching sirens
Passing you by, making you die.

‘You’ve been spared a second time. Yes, spared. Wear the mask.
‘Go along. Was it really so bad? Be honest.
‘Are you afraid to look? To compare? Yes?
‘I think you’re just fine. Liar.’

The dusty earth shall run with blood
Long after we come over them with our will.

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