Work Text
Tears?
For you?
No,
not done!Comfort of solicitous indiscretions,
donated by your once lover become your friend.Or an exit?
A capitulation to the war you cannot win.What is purity
left so far behind -
sunlight off a coppery head of hair, a defiant stare
abandoned in a long forsaken country?
You were heroes to each other
stood on pedestals kept firmly apart.Years of determined survival, gore and grime,
uncalled for inhumanity lived through
in search of your dignity.Knock backs, knock downs,
hopes smothered, stars shuttered,
pains, inside and out,
but always you are
The RR Lanyon!And then
that shocked remembrance of ruined flesh.
A lurid taunting. Before you too succumbed to munitions,
a near miss of a watery grave.
In hospital, your confessional drug laced letter sent out to the ether,
returned, unopened written over with the curt retort,
"died of wounds"
All gone then,
as you'd already known.Self immolation's too slow,
drink and lovers,
obscene couplings at amateur brothel parties,
selling yourself for free.So,
no tears for Lanyon! -
bright smiles on Benzedrine highs,
giving comfort to the walking dead,
squadron pilots waiting for their flight to go down,
idiot lovers drowning their insignificance in a blood tinged bath.Then He was there -
ruined body, like yours!Not a ghost then,
this star child become man,
this remembrance that lighted your drear years..No tears for Lanyon!Just maybe a redemption?
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