I let it happen
I ran to it; I stayed.
A desert mirage –
distorted those years.
concealing the tears of my heart
within the monsoon.
The locusts laughed
full of chat:
the years of fear:
it was the song of the sirens.
now: broken down and stuck,
in the hell of my own hallelujah
there is nothing in me, that moves,
but the desert calls all its babies:
with the softness of a mother’s touch
and a knowing forgiveness
of everything in between.
All that was left was hallelujah,
me, and that picture of the former you,
signed, by Arnold Schwarzenegger,
I didn’t cry.
They bustled in with Chinese food,
they made me eat with them,
I couldn’t tell them, didn’t know how,
I hoped they would hear the echoes of hallelujah.
It was deafening, distinct in the room,
and with one excuse me,
there they where, the screams of hallelujah.
I ate chicken curry,
hoped you might come back,
and save my soul,
or sing hallelujah for me.
They made me pray for you,
I didn’t mean it,
I didn’t cry, I never cried again,
but there were more tears of hallelujah.
– L.J. Lenehan –