There’s a deaf man tumbling down the hill

his eyes are black and his face is worn still

his hands are tied with the thickest of vines

behind a chair belonging to a relative of mine

-

And the blind men struggle out through the night

calling back and forth “I’ve seen the light”

and strain to acclimate their ears

to the deaf man rolling between their peers

-

With a mournful yelp and a painful whimper

the deaf man tumbles as the night grows thicker

-

The lepers are there

out on that slope

raping lame men’s daughters

who will bloat

in months that dangle forth

like the deaf man’s wild course

-

With a mournful yowl and a frightening cry

the deaf man careens as the night draws by

-

He knows who began his frantic fall

it was the mayor

who fucks town hall

who caught the man with little shame

inside of his wife while she called his name

her venture carried forth

by her love of silence and mind of sport

-

With a seething sound and a rapport of spit

the deaf man’s life still has not quit

-

“This love making is profane!”

shouted the mayor as he wracked his brain

to pitch his rival tied and all

and cut his tongue out

for he still loved his wife, after all

-

The blind men call

The lame men’s daughters wail

Though the deaf man

Cannot tell his tale