A Misunderstanding of the Wind

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448

When I was younger I was wrongly introduced
to a shitty woman who
not worshipful enough
wrote my name on the tale of a dog
ashamed of the light, she, drunkenly stepped back, then,
into misery and its brother
guilt
later condemned for fratricide
I appeared to be in love
but my heart was being turned to glass
and used to tune the keys
of this goddamned century
and, yet, here, the sobbing self, himself
face of mistaken identity
face of lost name
drummed into thy brother's name
you know, the one who's long gone, now.

449

Stain,
your profession might be battle
but in this country
where
the finest worlds are extinguished
where
quiet feeling is occupation
where
gallant defense is hardly ever mentioned
our comrade earth
becomes a color, a helper fighter
a scapegoat jury
all we do becomes a nest of understanding
a watching absentminded king
staunch breast and finest winning
first following then explaining to
the daughter of distinguished feeling