Poem: Infinite Brain

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I have killed him!

It has finally happened!

The tramp is fallen – the

Messiah is slain! I went

To the entrance of his cave,

And cried out: “Come out,

You Serpent! You thing of Fleas!

You disseminator of nonsense, and

Social disease! I want to chop off

Your old gray head, and take

Hammer and chisel to your

Old, arthritic knees!”

He made no response – so

I crossed the threshold of his cave,

Where I found him, as usual, depraved:

He was drinking with one hand, and

Writing a Holy Book with the other;

All the while, taking a piss, on his

Own Earth Mother. I gave him no

Chance to escape, and stabbed him

Right in the side; and, as he drooled

Himself to death, he mischievously sighed:

“You may kill me now,

But I will only change form!

And, in another guise,

Your face I will deform!”

I scoffed at the tramp – at his

Mad, old words. But from the scar

In his side, a little boy emerged; and into

My own sorry flesh, a dagger was

Soon submerged. He said:

“The Tramp may be fallen –

The Messiah might be slain –

But you cannot kill his beautiful mind;

His infinite, obnoxious brain!

His pain is your pain;

And he will rise again;

You can kill the fleabag as much as you wish,

But the Messiah will never be slain!”

I clutched my entrails, my slithering

Bowels; I slipped on a shower curtain,

And grabbed my bath towels, yelling:

“Love live the tramp!

The Tramp is finally slain!

But, how I wish I could at last destroy,

That Infinite, Infinite Brain!”

 

 

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