Violent Beginnings and Violent Ends

There is a certain madness you know

In the smile of the one bound for the guillotine

On her last day on earth, what do you

Think she thinks about?


Does she count the stars in the night sky

Or the rays of the sun, weeping


Gasping, screaming, for one more day,

You foolish ones,


Does she count her breaths, you think,

Wondering how many more she has left


Does she remember her lovers,

And the trail of broken hearts


She left in her wake

Do you think she dreams that night


Of all that could have been, all that was lost

Does she dream of tomorrows swallowed


Into the dust of the desert,

Do you think she wonders about heaven or hell


Or the line of death-mongers before and behind her

Perhaps she wonders what the face of the executioner


Might be, or if he will be masked in endless black

What a comical journey!


Mother’s birthing bed to bloody block

What violent beginnings and violent ends


Listen to her laugh herself hoarse, listening to your thoughts

She will choke and hiccup at each question mark


Be on your way for she sits there, dazzling

The stars are in her eyes and the sun bursts through her breast


She is decked out like a princess bride

Wrapped tightly in thorns and roses


She is gorgeous like the first day of spring

Shimmering in her joy


When she mounts that block tomorrow

I swear to you- that lovely neck,


That executioner and his axe, that song of death,

This city, this very earth, the skies above


Will burst into hymn, into prayer,

Into heart-stopping salute


Each drop of blood will spray in a fountain

Of glorious, golden, song.


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