Author Information
L'avare Silence Et La Massive Nuit
We tossed his rotten flesh into a hole;
a huge obsidian block covered it,
thereafter; his stiff, cold corpse had unhallowed
the ground we watered, not with tears but spit.
Expressed contempt for his books quickly followed,
and prayers for disposition of his soul.
He dared to prostitute the poetry
for which we labored; his cheap parody
was like a prancing, perverse travesty.
he was a great one only in his view.
He thought himself fine-feted and far-famed;
but all of that was merely self-proclaimed.
The thunderous applause he often said
he heard resounded only in his head
along with certain words of multiple
voices that told him what to write and do.
