That I should

Who am I
       that I should dream impossible dreams
       of goldenrod and golden gleam
              of kind people’s faces? Of music
              with high, sweeping notes & blazing rhythms?

Who am I
       that these faces should look down upon me,
       mouths sagging, eyes like torturous inquisitions –
              they should be burned at the stake for it
              or at least their questions sent to the gallows

Who am I
       that I should be slept into
       submission by these million voices
              that turn about, unstopping and restless and feverish
              a blood-red sickness that eats and eats & never sleeps

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