PREVIOUS NEXT FIRST DAS HELDENLEBEN, Subtitled: "The Humbug & The Louse.", Tied to a bloodied Sun...


"The Humbug
& The Louse."

Gericault's La Factionnaire
Tied to a bloodied Sun
that's setting in its oils

afraid, alone

upon The Futile toils
of The Sacred sky

sending out tiny waves
of clouds that fly
over earth's latest slaves

their necks within their individual Rope

all of the various Morning Men
say their Amen

weep with New Hope
Rush to The Office!!

(to make it) You land in jail
twixt That or This
O what a life!

You Louse!
(Back to The House)

& kiss The Wife...
Wash all the dishes
Feed the fishes

Check your vows
(Ah, did you strive?
further than decency allows

Did you survive
your daily drive)
Here to arrive?

Then: Fall in bed!

& sixty-five! So, you are dead.

--Head for Th'Cemetery'nstead

Now, Pleasure may shout into the ear
what Everybody wants to hear

while Pain, whispering so sincere
Everything True within its sphere--

only comes through to interfere
smear You with fear

so sear, severe, or steer
your body into a Spear

on which some Humbug's
strolling as though a bough
of Life--Fat & contented as anything

& repeating something about some Vow
with Spring

Stop there! all of the other creatures shout
to him, And tell us of This Thing!

while He but smells The Rose
(dying) so silent & devout

It's but a humbug! And one: but knows
to praise The Spring

a proper dose
& never diagnose it Javelin

(they, of course, thought Him quite daft

and so                  
              Th'Shaft ).