Manifest

That´s the brew

that´s the concoction...you can´t afford me

-it´s a dog-eat-dog

world and you are a cat.

The addiction lies in the comparison

You need money and I do too-

Your favourite game: falling short

has become mine

Only I don´t want to satisfy a drunken deal (I need you)

I don´t need the fear

Only, I don´t curse the past

my body

The government

I curse myself for not having a big enough heart to carry the tenderness, true, only a little

tainted

   it scares me

  where is perfection

not me, not you

not she

So I will look at my own shortfallings, my undesired need to please

and strive to make the real me meet you and

I here and there, sometimes.

And when that bitter cup comes my way

time and time again

I won´t feel pleased for being a real

man

Enough to drink or join

the brotherhood of beggars

I will plow, cut and trample the wilderness within and walk back

to higher ground

Into the Ways and ways, into the rooms of safehouses

of the half awakened and sleep then

-through a rigour of strength

A laughter of God

an embrace of the invisible

Society receeding to peaceful cities

well built away fro the cruel thorn of greed

And if it´s head rises from the

deep

of your infection that all is death

a rigmarole of the unforeseen

then I will rise, a summer of respite, and later leap

from peak to icy peak

-cold reason

until I reach the end of 2d worlds which so many

purport to be

dictate