This Intestine War

This Intestine War

Tell, what am I to do in this short while,
With so short fingers and such long strings,
And many long lists of wretch evil deeds,
And lines and lines of misbegotten kings.

A doctor heals men yet not the disease:
“But there is good in health and staying clean.
So keep the bones tough and tight, bright and white.”
Say heartful men who speak like wives and queens.

But it is not enough

The helpful minds produce no help for this,
The ratchet men can’t wrench the actual pains;
Painted flesh, with all its seams, won’t hold
An ugly horseman whipping us to shame.

And knowledge grants no lease from aches
Because damn chance takes eyes and rolls them tired;
It burdens backs and curls the shoulders round,
And the swollen spines inflame our desires.

But it is not enough

All my deeds won’t change that evil abides
Not only in this kingdom now at present,
But also deep in my hopeless saddened heart,
And hope, when given, feels but pleasant.

The gifts I give are dull, heavy with dross,
And the gifts to me I want to linger,
But I am a child who wants what he wants.
So I play my songs with my short fingers,
And it is good.

But it is not enough