The Fire Will Burn Your Laughter Away
whatever you do,
whatever you say,
the fire will burn your laughter away
myriad lunatics,
legion of swine,
screaming at mountaintops
from gutters and crying,
writing your epitaph
in powder
and clay,
the fire will burn your laughter away
burn-unit bicycles,
powerless mice,
clamoring insects
constructing their pedestals,
rickety
statues,
rotten desires,
the deified appetite,
godless and gray,
the fire will burn your laughter away
insectile laughter,
snickering,
liquoring,
loaded and lame,
crawling through bedsheets,
furious,
weeping,
wasted on tasteless,
simpering,
sleeping
homunculus outcry,
wimps of the night,
babies in waiting,
hating their enemies
as much as themselves,
or more,
as they may—
the fire will burn your laughter away
try as you will,
and cry as you might,
your fighting with me
is a plea to be heard
by a hateful
and infinite
idiot bird
who mocks you and locks you
up in a cage
in which he himself
is dead
and imprisoned
shackled
and cackling
vultures and hags
picking at corpses
with blunt beaks
and rulebooks,
claws of disorder,
the organized fray—
the fire will burn your laughter away
bludgeoning puppies
and kittens
of joy
with page after page
of rules,
restrictions
received from on high,
postmodern decrees
for the people below them,
while somehow believing
themselves
too smart for religion,
and sitting
on podiums,
dictating freely,
rat smiles peeling,
bobblehead followers
decapitate,
kneeling,
and mindlessly feeling
their way to the front
of the herd,
ostensibly deadly,
too dumb to be heard,
like chickens and livestock,
worse,
in a way—
the fire will burn your laughter away
arrogant parrots
tear at their sleeves,
gnashing
and crashing
at parties of teeth,
broken and woodenly-gesturing
clarion marionettes,
puppet strings showing,
indiscreet trash,
afraid to admit
they want to be loved
for whom they never
have ever have
been,
or never would dare
to openly be:
powerful,
fearless,
respected,
and free—
which is why they’re hung up
on respect
and control,
demanding that which
they are too scared
to honestly earn,
burning with
furious,
intellectually incurious,
imperious impurity,
posing as pillars
of power and beauty,
the aggregate sum
of Solomon’s glory
and nature’s array—
the fire will burn your laughter away
the embers are glowing
with the luminous
fury
of 10,000 sunsets
on the endless horizon
of infinite judgment,
the conveyor belt burning,
the highway to hell,
where all self-righteous
backroads
and religious believings
eventually lead,
the dreary parade
of wannabe clones
chained to their
bones
loaning their hearts to their neighbors
to step on
and burn,
hating the world when the favor
isn’t returned,
turning to Satan,
who teaches them the pleasures of anger,
and fury,
of being accepted
into a gang,
of condemning yourself
and your brothers
to hang,
of laughing at others
for speaking outside
the orthodox
slang,
the power of hatred,
the pleasure of death
and superior
feelings,
of frying the wound,
and freezing the heart,
of cutting the conscience
with soft,
fluffy powder,
ersatz emotions,
until it loses its potency
and is no longer
pure
Fill your heart full of candy and beat it with sticks!
Is the mind truly a playground of infinite kicks?
Is the ego a diamond, without remorse?
Is my body an army to be conquered by force?
Is the burden of Heaven too much to bear?
How long shall I these wings of hellfire wear?
Shall I balance my scales with angels and worms?
This is my rifle, and these are my terms!
If angelic wrecking balls
fall from the sky,
I will cling to this idiot word ‘til I die~
My hands are my feet
my age is my youth~
I have all the answers,
though I mock at the truth
my brains a cathedral—
stoic,
in pain
my heart is a sepulchre flooded with rain
trained to react,
never to think,
I am what I am and you are what you drink
which is why I drink water
and pulverized
mud-leaf,
honeybee islands, golden
milk
distilled
from the coconut
sunset,
and the light
that is squeezed
from the purified fruit,
life everlasting,
infinite youth,
but if you decide
to fill up your goats
with
sharks and great
octopus,
aberrant power,
weakness
and pride,
if you construct walls
in your heart
to block out the light,
your dungeons
unswept,
calamity mice
and rats
will eat from your buckets
and sleep in your hats,
and the grin
stamped on your face
like a visa from hell
will melt
into lava,
and the formerly-coins
of your powerful feelings
will be reduced
to a slag heap,
a mountain of fire-sludge,
and the gates of your weeping
will be broken
and open,
swinging wide
on the hinges
like screaming hyenas
chained
to a death-post,
rust-iron
teeth
and poisonous
candy,
and what formerly
looked
like
imminent victory,
will reveal itself
as the total
defeat
it always has been,
and the scraping
and screaming
of skeletons
weeping
will be matched in terribleness
only
by the unbearable view
of your subjects in Heaven,
laughing
and dancing,
singing and smiling,
apparently happy,
and completely
unbothered
by the plume of smoke
rising
from the ridiculous
altar
of your own great
importance,
and the offense
you have taken
from others’ beliefs
and stupid opinions,
will melt in your burned,
peeling red
hand,
so much stolen
candy,
your mansion of
sand
and your heart will
collapse
under the infinite
weight
of your own great
regret,
and the hatred you
nurtured in life
will be turned
in on itself,
and there will be no end
to your sorrow
or fury,
watching forever
while imbeciles smile,
suckers go dancing,
and idiots play—
the fire will burn your laughter away
© Nathan Payne
January 2021