The Dishonorable Man
Who has kissed the moon by lips untouched by life?
The dishonorable man wants to know.
The dishonorable man; who eats when he is full, when the desire of rum and flesh has passed he will feast of the troth of a spiritual poverty.
The dishonorable man; who shuns the sick and the weary. The man who loves life with two hands, speaking with two hearts that have twined in the humid summer of his heart.
Let him be filthy, if filth is his life. Let him be wicked still; let him never tire of his powers and live in the brightness of his falsehood.
He would forsake his father's name a thousand years for one day to scream his love to the world and have it be heard over the howls of wayward hounds and the sombre brays of the lovesick drunkards, unblemished by mortal shame and impiety.
He would walk from the home of his loves for another as flames burn the dreams of lost years to the ash of honey and despair. He would sing over the holiness of choirs with a voice of rigid steel, an endless might unknown to his relations and unearthly to those in love.
Let him live in falsehood if falsehood is his home. Let him live in wrath like a chieftan in the hovels of a heathan diety; for a thousand years let him live without remorse.
The years shall pass in death and in life.
The filthy will be judged;
the wicked will be mocked;
the liars will be beaten;
the wrathful will live in shame.
I am an unholy man,
a cheat, a liar.
I cannot hold hands with any redeemer or any weapon of kindness. I cannot judge what is below me, or the thousand pounds of steel that rains as promise above my head.
Who will come to judge the dishonorable will learn to judge themselves;
the wicked man alone can be the judge, alone in the sickbed of his age.