Well I finally finished "The Fertility Goddess", get ready it's a long one
"The Fertility Goddess"
The fertility goddess
Slouched in the garden
Once the buzzards have had their way
Her distended stomach
Would have made a fine pile of compost
It?s a pity that winter
Is only a week away
A gutted window by the hearth
Made for a sufficient view
I sat and gazed upon the body
While boiling a fine bowl of stew
Harvest had been very poor this year
Yes, very poor indeed
But the paltry protein in this pot
Should be the only food I need
The spiting wood was very damp
The logs had sunk beneath the dregs
I had fished each out one by one
And found them full of spider eggs
The cobweb nest was burning well
Bright and silent against the match
I wonder if the mothers knew
That their clutch would never hatch
Yet, insects are of no consequence
The stomach is what was best
That is what I kept in mind
As I pressed the barrel against his chest
The horse was much too sick to walk
But he made far too little sound
He wrenched his head out to the side
And knelt deeply against the ground
It all came off quite easily
Really, a very simple thing to do
To press upon the visceral lining
Then break the even edge straight through
The ruptured currents burble black
Tip it steady, tip it bit by bit
The meat will slide through the center
Let it cool, wait and let it sit
I remember, I still remember
I had known it from early on
Told myself ?It?s going to get better?
When the dispatch arrived at dawn
And it read:
The Great War God finally dead
Died of a stroke beneath a tree
Preparing for the battle ahead
Passed in the shade with sword in hand
Those old consumptive passions
Condensed above the bowl still hung
A deluge of sloshing sinew
Bristles back against my tongue
The raw taste of heat against the mouth
Numbs the throat and kills the flavor
Should have let it cool this once
Nothing left but the bulk to savor
A national draft is in effect
The Grand Tribunal has resolved
One final battle to protect
The fatherland?s most righteous cause
Now dip the bowl into the pot
The steam has finally gone and passed
Get more meat, a little less broth
Slow down now, you need to make this last
Report to city square at once
For your armaments and training
The convey departs in a month
We leave no able man remaining
The digestive apparatus
Nothing is more magnificent
Then to invalidate the dead
Oh-- oh it?s so significant
During my first charge into combat
A man stumbled over a root
He fell onto his bayonet,
And died while trying to salute
?Do not devote a single thought!
He fought and served his country well
We must press on into their ranks
To push them back against the dell.?
Those were our official orders
That no one dared to undermine
Disregard the dearly departed
And break through the enemy line
That time-honored rank and file
Quickly congealed into a ball
Down into the pits and hollows
I am enveloped by a living wall
The enemy artillery shells
Traced the curvature of the air
Landed neatly inside a nearby trench
To shake and make the soil tear
The Gatling flash with pitch and blast
Passed their whispered secrets into a crack
A sigh so low I could not hear
Beneath a sky embalmed in flak
So I thought:
No point in holding back I suppose,
And nowhere left to turn or flee
All that remains is to leave a mark
A bloody mark on eternity
Now I partake of this unwashed meat
Having sucked upon a broken bone
A meal prepared in hot water
So no offering must be shown
Oil and flour; what empty scents
Adorn that sacrificial stone
They provide such scarce nutrition
For the immense patience we have shown
Only dark and burning shapes amassed
As the shrapnel squirmed from side to side
Beneath the knee, onto the tendons
Until my remains are outstretched wide
The infection is grown much too deep
Yes, that leg will have to come off now
The risk for gangrene is very steep
We must operate straight away
Fetch this poor man a bullet to bite
Pass me the handsaw if you please
Restrain the patient and hold him tight
For his infection remains unclean
Even now I feel that supple twinge
Of muscle reeling beneath my touch
Yet a slight conical protrusion
Demands the usage of a crutch
There it leans with a splinted grain
Unbending by the wall behind
The scent of white ash is so thick
It?s a wonder that I have not gone blind
Pardon me I must take my leave
To walk upon the threshing floor
Perhaps I?ll clear the heaps of chaff
That gather against the cellar door
All and all you should be thankful
Not many at the front survived
Actually it?s a small price to pay
Considering how quickly you revived
There is no shame in a small stipend
It will ease the burden of the plow
Now that your body is insufficient
You must curb the sweat upon your brow
Yes, I will go- I will go outside
Beyond the frigid fields at eve
I shall make my way into the garden
And bury her before I leave
This old shovel has retained a fine weight
While fixed within the broken earth
It has known the wanton destruction
That heralds each and every birth
Step by step it churns the soil
And penetrates the murky sand
Crying out against the rocky bottom
It insists I make my final stand
Ah, the proper nutrition
Makes all the difference in the world
Now that I have dined completely
My twisted entrails have become unfurled
They hang in front and drag behind
Molded against these well-formed fields
I can feel each channel?s wild stroke
And the enormity that it yields
There she is, that rancid idol
As dead as death could ever be
They say she had such a pretty face
But here it lies in refuse and debris
It?s no good, no good at all
A mere formality at best
Everything that could be done
Has already been put to rest
Do not misjudge me I hold no malice
But, I?ve no desire to make an ends
There were never any debts to settle
Only the arguments that she transcends
Very well, let us move along
There?s nothing further we can say
Time to step over her corrupted corpse
And greet each other at the break of day
Look
See? It?s so simple, so easy
Anyone can do it
Anyone at all can be free
You just have to move forward
And find the strength to truly be
The fertility goddess
Slouched in the garden
Once the buzzards have had their way
Her distended stomach
Would have made a fine pile of compost
It?s a pity that winter
Is only a week away
A gutted window by the hearth
Made for a sufficient view
I sat and gazed upon the body
While boiling a fine bowl of stew
Harvest had been very poor this year
Yes, very poor indeed
But the paltry protein in this pot
Should be the only food I need
The spiting wood was very damp
The logs had sunk beneath the dregs
I had fished each out one by one
And found them full of spider eggs
The cobweb nest was burning well
Bright and silent against the match
I wonder if the mothers knew
That their clutch would never hatch
Yet, insects are of no consequence
The stomach is what was best
That is what I kept in mind
As I pressed the barrel against his chest
The horse was much too sick to walk
But he made far too little sound
He wrenched his head out to the side
And knelt deeply against the ground
It all came off quite easily
Really, a very simple thing to do
To press upon the visceral lining
Then break the even edge straight through
The ruptured currents burble black
Tip it steady, tip it bit by bit
The meat will slide through the center
Let it cool, wait and let it sit
I remember, I still remember
I had known it from early on
Told myself ?It?s going to get better?
When the dispatch arrived at dawn
And it read:
The Great War God finally dead
Died of a stroke beneath a tree
Preparing for the battle ahead
Passed in the shade with sword in hand
Those old consumptive passions
Condensed above the bowl still hung
A deluge of sloshing sinew
Bristles back against my tongue
The raw taste of heat against the mouth
Numbs the throat and kills the flavor
Should have let it cool this once
Nothing left but the bulk to savor
A national draft is in effect
The Grand Tribunal has resolved
One final battle to protect
The fatherland?s most righteous cause
Now dip the bowl into the pot
The steam has finally gone and passed
Get more meat, a little less broth
Slow down now, you need to make this last
Report to city square at once
For your armaments and training
The convey departs in a month
We leave no able man remaining
The digestive apparatus
Nothing is more magnificent
Then to invalidate the dead
Oh-- oh it?s so significant
During my first charge into combat
A man stumbled over a root
He fell onto his bayonet,
And died while trying to salute
?Do not devote a single thought!
He fought and served his country well
We must press on into their ranks
To push them back against the dell.?
Those were our official orders
That no one dared to undermine
Disregard the dearly departed
And break through the enemy line
That time-honored rank and file
Quickly congealed into a ball
Down into the pits and hollows
I am enveloped by a living wall
The enemy artillery shells
Traced the curvature of the air
Landed neatly inside a nearby trench
To shake and make the soil tear
The Gatling flash with pitch and blast
Passed their whispered secrets into a crack
A sigh so low I could not hear
Beneath a sky embalmed in flak
So I thought:
No point in holding back I suppose,
And nowhere left to turn or flee
All that remains is to leave a mark
A bloody mark on eternity
Now I partake of this unwashed meat
Having sucked upon a broken bone
A meal prepared in hot water
So no offering must be shown
Oil and flour; what empty scents
Adorn that sacrificial stone
They provide such scarce nutrition
For the immense patience we have shown
Only dark and burning shapes amassed
As the shrapnel squirmed from side to side
Beneath the knee, onto the tendons
Until my remains are outstretched wide
The infection is grown much too deep
Yes, that leg will have to come off now
The risk for gangrene is very steep
We must operate straight away
Fetch this poor man a bullet to bite
Pass me the handsaw if you please
Restrain the patient and hold him tight
For his infection remains unclean
Even now I feel that supple twinge
Of muscle reeling beneath my touch
Yet a slight conical protrusion
Demands the usage of a crutch
There it leans with a splinted grain
Unbending by the wall behind
The scent of white ash is so thick
It?s a wonder that I have not gone blind
Pardon me I must take my leave
To walk upon the threshing floor
Perhaps I?ll clear the heaps of chaff
That gather against the cellar door
All and all you should be thankful
Not many at the front survived
Actually it?s a small price to pay
Considering how quickly you revived
There is no shame in a small stipend
It will ease the burden of the plow
Now that your body is insufficient
You must curb the sweat upon your brow
Yes, I will go- I will go outside
Beyond the frigid fields at eve
I shall make my way into the garden
And bury her before I leave
This old shovel has retained a fine weight
While fixed within the broken earth
It has known the wanton destruction
That heralds each and every birth
Step by step it churns the soil
And penetrates the murky sand
Crying out against the rocky bottom
It insists I make my final stand
Ah, the proper nutrition
Makes all the difference in the world
Now that I have dined completely
My twisted entrails have become unfurled
They hang in front and drag behind
Molded against these well-formed fields
I can feel each channel?s wild stroke
And the enormity that it yields
There she is, that rancid idol
As dead as death could ever be
They say she had such a pretty face
But here it lies in refuse and debris
It?s no good, no good at all
A mere formality at best
Everything that could be done
Has already been put to rest
Do not misjudge me I hold no malice
But, I?ve no desire to make an ends
There were never any debts to settle
Only the arguments that she transcends
Very well, let us move along
There?s nothing further we can say
Time to step over her corrupted corpse
And greet each other at the break of day
Look
See? It?s so simple, so easy
Anyone can do it
Anyone at all can be free
You just have to move forward
And find the strength to truly be
