The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


spent

i spend my life pondering life
what else can i do but ponder life
i spend my life pondering space
what else can i do but ponder time
i spend my life in thought of worlds
what else can i do but think
i am useless for the making of things
i am priceless for their thinking
for the thought of them in space
for the thinking of them in time
and spending my life pondering life:
what else can i do but ponder
what else can i do

of suffering i am useless
and useless for the gift of kindness
of healing i have nothing but my own
and my own refuses to heal
there is no balance here, equation
nothing but facts and thuds
worlds slaughter worlds
everyone slaughters everyone
everyone slaughters everything
i spend my life in flight and pondering
i spend my life a slave to truth and being

of politics i devour gristled meat
eat through the worms of corruption and decay
of religion i brandish the sword and penetration
i will not howl gods in flight and pondering
i will not ponder things dead and gone and empty
what else can i do
this sun i will not face this coming day
this sun lies to me
what else can it do
neither suns nor gods ponder nor humans
the earth is our slaughterhouse
the earth is our charnelhus
i spend my life pondering life
what else can i do but ponder life

i spent my pondered life, i did that,
spending, spent, and nothing left to do

Generated by Mnemosyne 0.12.