Batman

It is a solemn affair,
As I take a knife to Grandmother’s hair,
One little lock
Dark and silvery,
Which sits beside my own,
Between the paws of a cardboard box.

It is a solemn affair,
As Joshua takes up the spade,

Last night was empty of dreams.
The thickening purple haze that condensed over my pillow,
never broke,
because,
Last night was empty of rain.
The stars which shone,
for all the world like diamonds,
never failing till morning.

J'ai eu tout le temps du monde,
Pour toi.
Il y avait des moments où mon corps tremblait,
juste à l'idée de te regarder,
Et bien que ton nom ne soit pas Simon,
Je penserai toujours à toi de cette façon,

Grandmother,
how many you are,
an army of the old and tired,
an army of memories.
I wonder,
Is there war inside your head?
as there is bloody war inside mine,
war so angry, my skull threatens to split.
Grandmother, 

Great old dire need,
Haven't felt this way for sometime,
Insanity strikes again,
Holding my mind in one hand,
Stopwatch in the other,
Counting the beats,
This is science,
This is not a drill.
Oh, how it feels,

Fair is her hair on a sunday afternoon.
purple is the sky we lie under
in the evening,
watching stars but not meaning to.
dirty, eyes tired,
dazzed and confused.
not sure what we want,