Poet

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And when the head is torn apart,
scatter the pieces to the morning
knowing this must go on, night after night
reassembling.
For months I have terror
I tell no one, go down into fear, submit
to living this.
All those I love,
am tenderest with
are oiled and passed around.

I witness every degradation, knowing
they are mine.
Suffer
what in waking comes the day
sane and steady,
comes corner-of-eye
passing up the razor.
When we shatter the machine
of sanity, suffer
what we are made of.

Other translations:

On your images burn what I have learned
of hatred. And when the head is torn apart,
scatter the pieces to the morning
knowing this must go on, night after night
re-assembling.
For months I have terror
I tell no-one, go down into fear, submit
to the sodomites of ugliness.
All those I love,
am tenderest with
are oiled and passed around.
I witness every degradation, knowing
them as mine.
Suffer
what in waking comes the day
sane and steady,
is corner-of-eye
passing up the razor.
God have mercy upon us
when we shatter the machine
of sanity, suffer what you have made us.

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