I am Not a Spook
No. I am not a spook; I am a man of substance.
I cut to release, watch the poison leap from my veins,
my hibernation is a covert preparation.
Our skin is a stain upon my progress, I shed it.
Light confirms my reality, gives birth to my form,
to be unaware of one’s form is to live a death.
I live with my head in the lion’s mouth, open wide,
I drift like Marlowe, closer to my heart of darkness.
Bound by a great dream to a beautiful monument,
bound by a thieving nation, steal my soul, make me feel less than human.
“Let them swallow you whole til’ they vomit or bust wide open.”
Wise words from an old fool who died a shade less black.
I denounce and I defend and I hate and I love.
This road was not chosen but I enjoy the exile.
Who knows, perhaps on some frequency, I speak for you?
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