My friends, we’ll each receive a special steel

prosthesis, and walk upright!  We’ll erase

this stupefying cuticle, and feel!

Our fluids will move through us like a kiss,

like a soft light inside our nakedness,

where nothing was but excrement and terror,

made worse by the nice doctors.  ---Was that us,

that bad child making faces in a mirror,

earning his execution with error upon error?

Let execution come then!  Let our necks

like gelatin be severed, quiveringly!

---and then be whole again, as the cool axe

glides through like moonlight slicing through the eye

of a blind man---and so we shall not die!

Exultingly, as I myself became

your prophesying Baptist, we shall know

each other’s faces, friends, and beyond them

a landscape, and a sky!  I see I’m out of time.