by James Yang
Egad! A base life defiles a bad age.
Are we not drawn onward to new era?
Some men interpret nine memos.
Do nine men interpret? Nine men. I nod
no. It is open on one position:
name not one man.
Name’s Abel, a male. Base man
Cain: a maniac
mad as Adam.
Murder for a jar of red rum.
In words, alas, drown. I
drawn, I sit; serene rest is inward.
Evil, a sin, is alive.
Revered now, I live on. O did I do no evil, I wonder, ever?
Is it I? It is I!
Won’t I panic in a pit now?
Evil did I dwell, lewd I did live.
Did I do, O God, did I as I said I’d do good! I did!
Dogma in my hymn: I am god
in words, drown I.
Won’t it now?
O, stone, be not so,
live not on evil.
No, I save on final perusal – a sure plan if no evasion.
Flee to me, remote elf.
Name now one man.