MyBeautifulMind

O my beautiful blond angel boy how I wished o so wished to keep you forever. Yet sensing the hollow space within you the void  never to be filled o never this craving which I the old alchemist exploited cunningly and almost with guilt o guilt yet always with the knowledge that my old penis would never fill this out o never not even penetrate deep enough for you my angel boy. So you tried those old traitors the elements then to complete the opus magnum the great work of transmutation: the gold of your hair craftily shifted into lead. Air the traitor: a blanket for wings and a tower to throw your angel body down o

atrocities atrocities atrocities atrocities in the cities rape torture arson and murder spontaneous acts of cannibalism her screaming white flesh torn apart by a dozen voracious men and one voracious dog only the dog was sane we need flamethrowers we need machine guns we need tactical nukes of course nothing of those will help against the devil inside while shouting into the microphones of listening journalists the prime minister displayed sudden symptoms of demonic possession buzzing flies dropped from his eyelids like a rain of black tears we need an army of priests to drench the world in holy water we nee

while his feet burned he was still singing the te deum in a loud and clear voice: o god we praise thee we acknowledge thee to be lord... till the smoke of his body made him choke the listening henchmen said to each other: today we killed a dangerous man god was closer to him than his feet Written in the memory of Jan Hus, who was burned at the stake in the year 1415 in Constance (Germany) accused of 'heresy'. A friend, to whom I told the story, asked the question, what the listeners must have thought, when they overheard the 'heretic' praising god. The poem tries to answer this question.