Go Forth, Ii
Sent away from the chattering clan
without having partaken,
or having partaken, but not for very long,
now sitting, sulking, licking my wounds,
or dreaming , shamelessly or shamefully longing
for an aloof, forbidden goddess,
grumbling, I know I've been wronged;
quietly preaching to the walls, I know I was right;
unable to utter a word, I know nothing at all;
yet I understand that they do not understand
and no, I cannot elaborate,
but yes, I do understand, they do not,
or will not - laughing, scorning my pleas -
will not understand.
Yes, that is it, I think, they will not.
And while I know none of their craft,
I'm sure, if nothing else, that they are wrong.
I'm sure that I am right.
I think that I am right. Perhaps I am right.
And their instruction and warning and discipline
and frightful howls of derision
will not very soon abate.
They may yet set about my licentious flesh
as would Phineas, righteous and bloodthirsty,
his lance eager and true.
24th March 2005
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