I am the janitor of the house of life

I am the keeper

I strip the covering from the marrow

of your being

I mash the marrow to make essence of Man

to serve at the communal table

I am cook and I am servant..

I paste the images of your photographic minds

on the photo album of the sky

I call it history

and I make a soup of it,

one day some creature’s sure to call "primordial".

I am the casting of the die, I am the destiny

of man’s eternal savagery

I am the slime to which it all returns

I am the purity of a new beginning

I am destruction

I am perdition

I am rebirth

I am the scream of the newborn, I am the blood, I, the placenta

throughout a cold, new, stark, airless beginning

I am a rhythm that cannot be heard

I am a distant drumming, I am the tribe

before the teeming multitude.

I am alone, watching the cliff-like remains

of your proud race on its dead, mausoleum world,