Spices and Things
I would give you my advices
If they weren't overpowered with spices
And things. Believe me, I hold
No control over these bold
Statements I make, nor the clever
Phrases and quips. I have never
Told a story of my own imagination—
No, 'tis the work of some abomination
Running amok in our sad homes.
They carry foreign, mysterious tomes
Filled with ghastly images and
Recipes for the witches' gnarly hands:
Indeed, a witch would benefit from
These outlandish ingredients, some
So abhorrent I dare not say their
Names aloud. But alas, they are,
At the same time, wonderful items—
Spices and things—bizarre and exciting:
They provide a necessary embellishment
To the newly made unintelligent—
We call them newborns, for they eat all,
So why not tell a story for them all,
About dragons and knights and the blood
Of the hopelessly valiant in the mud
Where their decaying corpses lie.
Spices and things—to show the fly
That is shooed away by the fairy
So that she may revive him and be merry.
And all the world's a miser, but who
Must know? We promise you will never know.
Drink this, or eat that—it is delicious.
None of it at all is remotely malicious.
It is soul-cleansing and stomach-filling,
Bad only for the vision you're killing,
For who must know? It is not needed.
Take root in the head I have seeded,
O Truth, so flexible, so malleable,
But not in the least detrimental.
Truth likes spices and things, she does.
Boys and girls, you and I, she loves,
She feeds us, clothes us, kills us
On the day we are called, the Day of Lust,
When we fight for our afterlives,
Be it Heaven, or Hell. It is a beehive
Of swirling angels and demons
That vie for our trust—daughters and sons,
The parents care not, for Truth doe say,
With much spices and things, that away,
Up high or far below, both are right,
Because both are eternal; both are a light.
Copyright © Daniel Handschuh | Year Posted 2017