No. 700: The Seventh-Hundred Post

I’ve been waiting a doldrum for Mrs. Silk
To come down from her moonbeams
And give me milk.
I’ve been waiting four decades for Mrs. Right
To put her hands on the table and spread holy light.
I’ve been waiting sixty seasons for Mrs. Pain
To break the bars of my cage and set me free again.
But I’ll keep waiting as long as the dew
Appears each morning and sparkles anew.
I’ll keep waiting as long as the clouds
Disappear into nothing, nature’s shady shroud.
I’ll keep waiting as long as the mists
Glide through the cacti and slit tender wrists.
I’ll keep waiting ‘till animals shrivel
And mountain tops decay.
I’ll keep waiting month after dwindling month,
After painful dying day.

—Chancellor Cop’s Book of Daydreams and Hate, Page 497