The Poet's Cross

Poets stand tall, stand together
On your journey upwards 
Proud of words 
Long live words 
These are the words 
Of hearts and spades
That dig up gardens
Cutting the worms
You were five cutting up worms
Now you're 25 cutting up words
Worms words worms words 
Now you're 45 cutting up words
Worms words worms words
Now you're 65 cutting up words 
Worms words worms words
Jesus died on a cross for words 
You'll be crucified for your words
You'll be tried and convicted and 
Evicted after the stoning and the
crowing and the joking and the
poking and the loathing and the goating 
You'll be crucified on the poets' 
cross
Bleeding just like Jesus, stabbed 
through
and through wrists punctured into 
immortality;
then at suns up you'll be wheeled 
away,
draped in white while you pee out
 your last rites. 

Night will fall, twelve men will sit at 
a table and eat the last supper, 
you'll recall how Jesus was at that
 table and you'll spill your words 
over the table like you'll spill your 
wine, there will be a silence and 
mourning. You'll be hanging from 
the poets' cross. 

Réquiem ætérnam:
Réquiem ætérnam dona ei (eis)

Dómine; et lux perpétua lúceat ei (eis).

Requiéscat (Requiéscant) in pace. Amen

Eternal rest grant unto him - O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.