Do you see me as a flamethrower
Do you see me as a fraud
Do you see me as a soldier
Son of demons or of God?

Did you think I wasn’t Jesus
Did you know that I’m his tool
Do you wonder if I mean this
Are you sure I’m a feckless fool?

Never claimed to be a wise man
Never claimed I’m not a freak
Never claimed to be a hammer
Never claimed I wasn’t weak

So I dared to be a poet
So I smoked you like a muse
Did you care and did I blow it
Was it fair to light the fuse
And refuse the blues if only for a season
Then sweat and moan and hunger for the reason
The fuse was lit

Only to discover I was it?

Did I claim to be a martyr
Did I claim to be a priest
Or deny I can be sycophant
Or psycho in the least?

Did I wander while I wondered
Why my will was wanting out
Did I think too much to feel your touch
And what was that about?

Did I dream deferred and drink absurd
And toast you with my tongues
Did I ever claim to catch your name 
Or climb your highest rungs?

And after all this time…

Did you come close
To catching or climbing mine?

Did I ram you with my rhyme
Just trying to fuck the pain away
Did I hose you off
Cause you to cough
To dream that I was gay and pay
For just a taste of hacked up
Washed out freedom come
And go numb
Just to be left in the rain
To be rinsed clean of our clinging pain
To be rinsed again in vain
To be rinsed again in vain?


And what would you say if I said
You were just as alive and dead as I?


Would you cry with me
And wonder whether
Folks like us can ever wander far enough
To leave behind the whether
And find freedom
Without the dumb?

Or would you come and go numb
Come and go numb in the lingering rain
To be rinsed clean of your clinging pains
To feel scrubbed free from the stains
To be rinsed clean of their stinging
To be rinsed again and again in vain

Convinced again and again in vain
That I must be a flamethrower
And I must be a fraud
That I must be a soldier
Son of demons or of God?

Then I dare not be a poet
Dare not smoke you like a muse
Care so little as to blow it
Won’t be there to light the fuse
And abuse the blues if only for a season
Then sweat and moan and hunger for the reason
The fuse was lit and the charges blew

Till we burn and learn that I was it
And it was you.

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