Bored From Painting

Bored from painting I took to chiseling last night: I chiseled a crucifix and a broken-hearted Mother. Come! I'm out! At night Early night before the deep of night passed darkling clouds on earth I went out. Slid through the door closed the door slowly without sound as a rat fleeing. now I have arrived at the edge of the village the last street and of that last street the edge. come! come! into the green! the green that still appears black in the moon's light! I turn I jump I turn I turn and turn again Joy! Joy! Joy! All drear be gone! I walk, turning and turning. Round, round the stars go round the moon goes round the night revolves around me! I will not return before the edge of night. Here! The bottle! Ho! Ho! Ho! I will get drunk make me drunk willingly, I know! It's like a suicide! But no! No, I will return! I fall asleep atop the hill that I have climbed tomorrow let them find me return me from the grass haunting me from the dry fig tree above me. Come! blanket, night!