History

© 2013 David Jasmin-Green

Mystery Babylon the great, mother of harlots
and sundry abominations of the Earth.
Is this a mystery to you?

Subjugated by endless torrents of abuse
your rheumy eyes, as empty and outspoken
as the cloying darkness that encloses me
and as yellow and malevolent as piss-holes
in the well-trodden slush of my soul
perceive nothing worth knowing.
Under a gibbous moon
hunched in the dank armpit
of a ragged ribbon of bloodstained cloud
I watch you gloating over my misfortune
while mewling tomcats ululate
their mournful chorus in the background.
Fury cools oh so slowly in my schizophrenic heart,
but in a moment of unparalleled glee
I realise that you are the one to be me,
though you can never be my Messiah.

Hallelujah! Praise the bloodied morning sun!
From a lofty balcony you let down your hair,
my rabid Rapunzel, while
I weep tears of blood and sweat intermixed
that wash away cautionary memories
from the world before.
In the warm and dusky cavern beneath my sheets
I spill out a plaintive tribute
as thick as porridge and sticky as glue,
and the Lord above smiles on my untold misery
like a good shepherd should.

The masque of red death despises merriment.
Betrothed, I am one with you, my only love,
for we are as kith and kin conjured gladly
by the mystery of fortune.
Promise me that you will never reveal
our incestuous secret, my beautiful cousin.