Like a stone worn past memory of what it was?
Like the putrid lake that will absorb anything?
I do not care whether you uncovered your evil or absorbed it
I wish you death tonight if your conscience allows you to sleep.
Tomorrow the partisans will drag your body through the town
Saintly widows will spit on you
Rabbis will piss on your face
Mothers will tear at your skin,
And tell their children to beat you with the soles of their shoes
You shall be taken to the telegraph wire
And hung upside-down with your whores and your cronies
While young girls cheer, and old men say to one another:
Justice has been done.
And all around the church bells begin to ring,
Because now we can sleep in our beds like brightest jewels
At the bottom of clear mountain lakes.
at last, a new poem.
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