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Malcolm's Apologia |
I was only kidding about that all—
The rapes and murders, pillaging the world.
Who could dream of it?
Where are you now Saint Colum of the doves?
The whole North Sea is murked with fear and death,
With frets of myself.
At least it is not red—or not yet red.
O, Columba—patron of poetry
And floods—save me now!
I am a man of woman born, near ghost.
The flesh of me is what I fear so much.
Yes, I dread my self.
Save me from my self and the things I’ll do.
Save me from things I want to do and take,
And kill and bury:
Everything, every thing. The visions stop
Only with a dead, wine-induced sleep. Still,
Dreams breed incubi.
I was only kidding about that all—
The rapes and murders, pillaging the world,
Who could dream of it.
copyright 2005
Seth
Woolf |
