Whisper

To you, my brother, these lines are laid bare.
To you, my brother, I weep freely.
For the needlestain junkies in the streets have flung me out,
And all the minstrels in their opera halls have spat their hatred on my face,
That boiled sickly sweet so much so that entire cavities drilled through my brain
and kissed the stars that hung around fucking and multiplying in their sky-beds above
I have been pushed into an orgy clown-box
by people who had considered me innocent,
and white and shiny like a rare diamond,
which when it looked into the mirror
saw itself in kaleidoscopic horror,
I have toiled under sack upon sack of wounded hearts
which I stitched with the skin of my shivering lips, which in turn
hung limp and loose and paranoid and unable to kiss,
I have toiled under entire mountains of protruding eyeballs squirming and staring staring staring,
staring maggotridden and stinking,
I have toiled under the stink of justice,
for I had wronged, I have wronged, I will err,
I have toiled, I have toiled, for a snail-paced decade of decadence
And with my fingernails I have scratched a stranger's face
That sat placidly on my neck, unwillingly, obscurely
Fingernails that bled profusely from their tendons
that hung bare and peeled off if you picked at it enough,
I have walked through slimy green gangrene greentown redtown blacktown downtown alleys
where angels fucked themselves over gigantic barrels of whiskey,
their dicks hanging out like some
ugly decaying stinking sucker-mouth sucking the night air,
which they briskly tucked into their trousers at nine o' clock, sharp,
their dicks, not the night,
passing greying, dying versions of themselves without a second thought, indeed, with disgust; indeed, with guilt;
I have fallen through the flickering trickholes of love
and landed on soft pillows of indifference and often I have died,
and I have called for you, brother
when I lay in bed with my brain throbbing on the far side of the room,
I have screamed, screamed for slithery electric eels
to tie themselves like a noose around my tongue,
before I cry out:
"Shit! Filth! Suckers of Satan's cock!
Mongrels! Murderers!
Fuck you! Fuck yourselves!"
And yet I refrain, I refrain
My heart is heavy,
My heart is wilting,
And to my lovers: I have forgotten you
with a sort of kindness that you must have used to forget me,
I have forgotten your eyes when we fucked day and night,
I have forgotten our kisses when I look at your silhouetted face,
only ready to show itself after
a decent diplomatic mask has been chosen,
I have forgotten our grief when we sat dawdling in empty rooms
with heavy walls that vomited nightmares and toxic ooze,
and our flowers are now scattered along an unremembered road.
I have forgotten how to awake,
I have forgotten myself, and sometimes
I forget the world.
I have toiled, brother,
I am dying, brother,
And I do not know where I am.