poetry, trails of thought

And where I have been wronged …

Where I have been cheated (foul),

I shall cheat (foul) back in equal degree.

Where I have been stung (yellow),

I shall sting (yellow) back in equal degree.

Where I have been hung (out to dry),

I shall hang (out to dry) back in equal degree.

And where I have been wronged (in imagined lullaby),

I shall wrong (in imagined lullaby) back to such terrible degree that

no wrong there has ever been will compare

to the wrong I choose now to (both) see and rightly engineer.

And whether you expect this of me,

and whether this is what you desire of me

or not,

I care little any more to doubleguess your stress-pointing –

your goddamn atavar-creating.

For you have anointed a cruelty beyond all biblical measure.

And none of that which I imagined you to be

is left to treasure … in any way whatsoever.

And where I have been wronged, and where

my mind has been slow to sow its truth,

and where you have seeded so much hurt,

and where I have interpreted your actions all along

as those of the good, never the awful terrible sad,

now my patience is utterly consumed,

and my desire for vengeance begins to assume –

even where every human being knows how vengeance

consumes far more its actor than ever its acted upon –

how the future must run.

These moments past have prepared me only for a life of pain:

so let it be my turn no longer to be inflicted upon.

And where I have been wronged, I shall never desist

until I discover and reveal for all to see the reason why.

And I shall try, in every sense I can touch and smell and taste,

as my final tranche of a life so dreadfully damaged,

to hurt those people who have so claimed to help me …

… when, in truth, they only ever were out to help themselves.

 

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