The General
When he young
and felt the stars within his limbs
he screamed at the egg-yolk walls
'it's me in here, you bastards'
So they made him have his hair cut
and then salute the flag
And he grew
uncorrupted
A general of the crippled army
He never played at Christianity
since they changed the rules too often.
Instead he burnt out his eyes
and stabbed his way to Calvary.
Using faces as jig-saws
and bigger men's emotions
as his own.
When he was old
as blood they made him
a God for younger, better men.
When he was ancient
he found the night
tucked between the cotton-wool
of an aspirin bottle.
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