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Dream?

(May 1962)

A grisly sound cries out in the night

A tooth grates on deep sand;

I climb from my grave –

And the vapours it gave –

With bloodstained rags on foot and hand,

And laughed as a madman might.

The stench rises to the tall tree,

Green leaves rot and fall.

Waxen hair blows in the wind wild,

With crunching teeth I eat a child,

Closing my lips, consuming it all,

I see pus and foam dripping down.

A cry for help sounds in the sun –

What I am there is not me!

Eating a child

Pissing on the undefiled,

What I see there is not me.

It’s the death of all, and has just begun.