The Assassin (from The Songs Of The Erinnyes, Sonnets, Odes, and Elegies by Jay Noya, Brigantium Press)

1

A knife to your womb is what I say
A bomb strapped around your neck is what I say
A charred tree and a burning sky is what I say
A boiling sea and a day that won’t end is what I say
Deserted streets in a bombed and burning city
Cadavers piled up by the roadside in the outskirts
Neither wind nor day and night are likely after this
I’ve removed your eyes with a knife and removed your tongue you say
I’ve stolen upon you in the night and raped
And murdered your daughters and shot your husband
And slit your throat and burnt you all in a pile you say
There won’t be another day like this
The calendar is finished and it won’t matter what time stood for
Neither you nor will be around to shout and protest
And argue and point fingers in accusation
The only justice we’ll be familiar with then
Shall the uncertainty of the ground
And the remoteness of the air

2

A knife to your womb is what I say
A bomb strapped around your neck is what I say
A charred tree and a burning sky is what I say
A boiling sea and a day that won’t end is what I say
You won’t recognize me emerging from an apartment building
And I won’t see you because you shan’t be alive to accuse me
The maggots would have feasted on you and disguised you
The maggots would have removed you
From among anything that stirs in the sunlight
From among anything that feels the chill of dawn
From among strangers at the street corner going home
Going to an apartment on Ninth Avenue and a television set
And what I saw once when I was away in a nameless nowhere
Won’t keep me from my dinner and my bed


3

A gun to the back of your neck is what I say
I won’t fret in the morning when I get out of bed
I’ll drink coffee and smoke and read the newspaper
I’ll listen to the radio and just after eight go off to work
And I won’t mind what the weather is like
I’ll hum and notice a woman crossing Eighth Avenue
And a taxi stopping for three men in identical overcoats
And I’ll take the subway to the east side of town
And at the other end this life I know to be mine
I’ll feel a stirring and something of a recollection
Will force itself upon me that I’ll guess it’s you gone
You as a thread you as a noise you as a quivering shadow
But it won’t be you it’ll be a phantasm of what you once were
A paltry space well away from roads and streets
And the voices of people and the din of traffic
It’ll be you just the same erased by a knife
Erased by the hand wielding a knife and afterwards a fire
It’ll be you erased by an unmarked burial place


© J. Noya 2006