Psalm of Mercy by Tadeusz Nowak

I would kill you out of mercy
and out of mercy crucify you
a hazy bloody pulp
in all our windfalls
gouged out from your eyes
with a piece of old steel
whitened by a host of grain
and rust dripping into sand
I’d give a you a staff for the road
and a dog as mad as a man
just so your eyelids
would cover your eyes
and so from every village on the other side
apostiles would come forth for you
with bisquits blessed
and fish for Lent
I’d even announce from what
corner of the world you would come
your lips will drink
our prayers Judas
we’ll beat you until
our rods turn red
and the apples from every orchard
are cut down for sceptres
and in the midst of women
we find a Magdalene so sinful
that your feet are like cheese grators
from the tenderness of her washing
and from pillar to post
and two thieves and still
through vinegar
and unburdening bile rain is falling

Then you’d come back again
sorrowfully to the windfall
so that out of mercy
a hazy pulp would be crucified

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