Ballad...

Outside it's dark and gray and cold while in the stove burns mother,

And dad hangs by the candle light while I cut without pother.

Around lay resting all my kin, each grinning like the other,

The flies swarm over and around, uniting aunt and brother.

Beloved sister from the trunk, don't cry, don't fret but rather

Weep with the missing eye that was for laying with another.

Such was his fate, from the tub, that I'd forget his name,

While for his broken ribs and spine I'll carry all the blame.

I'll swear on all the gore around it wasn't in my aim,

To torture, cripple or to mar, nor gimp, nor hack nor maim.

But I'll confess it's all good fun, and easily a game,

Having a go only to stop feels rather like a shame.

The now castrated herd of boys that never ever came

Seems purer, lighter, and at peace as kindlings for the flame.

Electric juice well applied in due time rendered tame

Three uncles who once thought all youthful charm's their claim.

Instead of candy an' silly tricks to render girlies tame

The spiked club works faster, and where they go it's all the same.

Don't like a husband use the holes of weeping, captured dame

If she has any self-respect she'll think it very lame.

Instead, with cuts and coals her spirit and her blood inflame.

So as she's dying by the glass she'll fear what she became.

Sleep, baby, sleep, while daddy cuts your nails

Taxidermy truly works, and you don't need entrails.

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Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Monday, 09 October, Year 9 d.Tr.