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!”