Vigilante (Divine Mercy Chaplet)

INTRO: Execution

The guillotine would fall, but
The chain was rusty
Another client complained
That his head was still on his shoulders
Others had more luck
It’s called happy shortening of torment

They wish she could disappear,
A Woman Who’s Not Here
(head falls to the basket. the audience cheers)


If I surrender my being to you in blind ecstasy of love,
If I’m yours assistant in your sadistic experiments over humans
if I was your fourth antichrist….

There are some flickering colours
gouged from my tormented ears
The head is rising again.
The skull also rises.
(For now in the dark I went mad, by blessing of the night.)

What a man desires to live more
With heart alone, I cared not.
Now has begun my transition!

You’ll find the pleasure through tribulation
in shudder burning water rat – a – tat stately in flames
We are the womb, we are the abyss, we are the tomb we are exhume
We are the womb, we are the abyss

I offer you my divine dream
inside of it is just a poor neighbourhood
I offer you the beggar’s beauty equipment
ragged white tights with black polka dots

I offer you the saint who lived as a beggar
beggars celebrate humanity
spitting on a man


You Nature, you made of mercury
You are never visible
Yet you are warm you are cold, you are dry
You are moist

Whose end is god

It took me ten years to vomit slimy bodies from my voice box
The rest are grim reechoes in the dark, holding my failed wig
in the made up hands

along with the humoured rats which presence is forgotten

For the damned do not die
Rejoice, we are Gods
maddened jumped out of the dark

I pass through world and clap my hands,
spin and dance in the graveyard.
I sit on a stool and with smooth moves of my fingertips

I touch the masonite.

Then only a whisper is heard and that wheezing,
the crying, wailing.
The dog begins to howl.

Bastard never dies

My tears after awakening
Are crocodile dung
Tears soaked in bathtub

The smelly bath
In the embrace of blindness
high ceilings, the pendulum

Vigilance interrupts an idyllic life in a nightmare
I am a cosmopolitan widespread disease
The urn with the hairs of my cat is on the edge of the table

Carry me
Carry me there.. to
the existence of reality.
(grave bursting)


I AM the verse without fresh air
my irritated imagination
my twinkling lights
good-looking to be sniffed at
The intermitent the appalling pictures…

My schizoid brother in need
We will never be alone, again

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