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Poem	There were only a few of them In all the earth Each one thought he was alone They sang, they were right To sing But they sang the way you sack a city The way you kill yourself. Frayed moist night Shall we endure you Longer Shall we not shake Your cloacal evidence We shall not wait for a morning Made to measure We wanted to see in other people's eyes Their nights of love exhausted They dream only of dying Their lovely flesh forgotten Bees caught in their honey They are ignorant of life And we suffer everywhere Red roofs dissolve under the tongue Dog days in the full beds Come, empty your sacks of fresh blood There is still a shadow here A shred of imbecile there In the wind their masks, their cast-offs In lead their traps, their chains And their prudent blind-men's gestures There is fire under rocks If you put out the fire Be careful we have Despite the night it breeds More strength than the belly Of your wives and sisters And we will reproduce Without them but by ax strokes In your prisons Torrents of stone labors of foam Where eyes float without rancor Just eyes without hope That know you And that you should have put out Rather than ignore With a safety pin quicker than your gibbets We shall take our booty where we want it to be
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