The poet's cross

 

The Poets' Cross 

Poets stand tall, stand together
On your journey upwards 
Proud of words 
Long live words 
These are the words 
Of hearts and spades
That dig up gardens
Cutting the worms
You were five cutting up worms
Now you're 25 cutting up words
Worms words worms words 
Now you're 45 cutting up words
Worms words worms words
Now you're 65 cutting up words 
Worms words worms words
Jesus died on a cross for words 
You'll be crucified for your words
You'll be tried and convicted and 
Evicted after the stoning and the
crowing and the joking and the
poking and the loathing and the goating 
You'll be crucified on the poets' cross
Bleeding just like Jesus, stabbed through
and through wrists punctured into immortality;
then at suns up you'll be wheeled away,
draped in white while you pee out your last rites. 

Night will fall, twelve men will sit at a table and eat the last supper, you'll recall how Jesus was at that table and you'll spill your words over the table like you'll spill your wine, there will be a silence and mourning. You'll be hanging from the poets' cross. 

Réquiem ætérnam:
Réquiem ætérnam dona ei (eis) Dómine; et lux perpétua lúceat ei (eis). Requiéscat (Requiéscant) in pace. Amen

Eternal rest grant unto him - O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.