IN THE TWILIGHT OF INSANITY
in the twilight of my insanity
the sun beats down on me
like the gleam in the eye
of a butcher lowering a hammer
on the head of an unsuspecting cow
being led to the slaughterhouse
the memories circle me like old-time
Indians circling a wagon train
as I walk back into my birth
each new year like a sharpened knife
in the hands of a trembling surgeon
lost in insomnia like a blind man
walking a dark road in the dead of night
waking like a shotgun blast in a killing field
lost in a language I cannot translate
the priest passes the collection plate
rejects my confession
my sins laid out like a sea of stars
in a faraway constellation
the creaking coasters
of my grandfather’s rocking chair
sing in my one good ear
the Holy Ghost devours me like a python
the Pope gets down on his knees
begs for Jesus to come out of hiding
and deliver the long-promised resurrection