CROSSED EXILE BY BRIT PARKS

I resigned from the revolutionary foreign legion council,

as I ran out of words that were proper-felt, proper-held.

When they start to love you as a machine

some Lang-worthy cog, you should run

fold your uniform first, it will slow them down.

Tonight my darling guts fell into my heart,

they lied when they said it was a muscle.

There are heart cavities in 2000 year old Italian marble 

Gods and they just arrived and they are screaming.

And tonight Claudel is tired,

and tonight Mona Hatoum will cage her in the safety 

of exile, exile is safe as it is defined.

And tonight Claudel is tired,

and tonight Mona Hatoum will cage her in the safety 

of exile, exile is safe as it is defined.

You know you are outside, you know where the 

bottom cross is.

This isn’t beautiful, beautiful was never universal,

it was a word that sounded like it is and this is helpful.

Until you are in exile, until 4 miles is the same as 4000 miles 

and a damned gut is beautiful as you recognize it 

and confuse it with a mirror.