it lies
in the sun
of its own
flesh

while
in front
of a stone
temple

I am
giving a
sermon

my
naaked
body

contorts
with
madness

I keep
repeating
my words

for I know
new
people
keep
walking by

"Oh, flesh,
of Iron
dust,

you must,
blow
yourself away

and then
you will
be whole!"

I heard
a whale
breathe

and I
saw
black smoke
enter humanity

but their
legs
did not
stop moving

and I
heard
a scream

but I
did not see
their faces
change
into what I
heard

I shut
my daamn mouth
and put on my
rags
and closed my
blank notebook

I shed my skin
and ranting
ran
into a fire
and slept there
many years
in my soul
I am still there

while the whale
can have his share
of men
dying
but like a spirit
would die?
and then to live
like my words
and to leave the whale
here
and there
in the abyss
of man's
gluttony
while my
own flesh
and even my
senses
are drawn
into the sea

I will be
no whale
he can be
no one

I will suffer
in my flesh
as no whale flesh
can be
stripped bare
and thin

these lines
drawn down
to hope

A whale of a tale
my friend Jim..

a fin
in hinderance
akin to
putting
asunder
a nuisance
though
not permanent.

His insolence
usurped us
an was
a wonder.
Though to
ponder
it's thunder
a blunder.

Day will come
for time
he'll be won.
One sun
shun
and encumber
to eternal
slumber
from men.