Crush like an unanswered door

bolted closed and sealed with rust

 

Crush like the unreceived gift

cold empty sky going forever

 

Crush like a mountain that just won’t move

granite testimony of nothing and nowhere

 

Crush like the fall into unwaiting hands

of the no-father, of the no-mother

 

Crush like every shade of gray

a striving failure to be black

 

Crush like a dozen loving arms

void of the strength to hold you up

 

(Crush)

"in this world you will have trouble"

(Crush)

"but rejoice"

(Crush)

"for I have defeated the world"

 

What sweet wine will be made

from the fruit of the press that

closes upon this body?

Whose blood is shed from the everlasting

Crush?