walton, walton
they can’t get it, can they?
all tethered to the same place
walton, walton,
severed from the gangplank
suffering the same fate
walton, walton.
rotten core of the world
around you unfurls,
setting up shop
stacking limbs to chop
they leave it up to chalk
walton, walton.
I had a dream once that I remembered your reason,
sacrosanct and hallowed, mouths depleted;
no cradle for the babe, left alone
and litigated. purpose for which the brain is
tailored. a paradox you hated. I can find
the thread and be its gaoler. use your head
now, walt, you’ll have no savior. a flaw
fundamental, raised in impatience, you saw true
the miscarriage of information.
you shed no tears.
for why should you think only of law?
what is the definition of a scholar?
who can be made an automaton?
what then, to do with the Questions?
why is it my fault?
why do people lie?
why do they think me unseeing?
why do they ignore the depths of it?
why do they misattribute to meaningless externals?
why am I wrong for asking?
why must I be punished?
why am I alone in this?
why does nobody understand?
why can’t I just be okay?
a hard thing to explain to a boy who knows only mind
and whose heart is boxed in mahogany;
who knows only to think, to prod and pull,
to analyse and describe in terms absolute;
who knows only answers, to seek and find
salience in his trough of tomes.
if he has not been loved, then there must be no love.
if he has not been understood, then understanding must be
a phantom. it must all be a trick, a scam,
the coordinated rambling of sycophants
forming a fabricated web of intangibles.
that to be in relationship should be nourishing, that there
is such a thing as a caring other, that their joy
is genuine…
falsehood. the boy screams foul play.
there is no data to suggest this.
he has only seen mention.
he has certainly never felt it.
walton, walton
if it’s true,
and the one misled was actually you,
then boy, oh boy, it must be hard,
the rotten core within your heart,
for all you’ve known is absolutes,
you’ve not been shielded by your youth,
place yourself within this frame,
for someone must take up the blame.
walton, walton.
heavy is the head who bears his name.
the place that contains the list of the containers of words