Moritomo and Teresa
In the remote corner of Galaxy
He dropped by for a drink of mineral water
In the asylum for poor
Jesuits' defense mechanisms
Checked his irises
While cold ceramic hand
Took the money
In silence they waited for him to leave
And nun was carefully washing
Cups
From the backyard one could hear
Rubbing and beating of
Battledore
At the other side of muddy yard
Hospital
Syphilis and gangrene
Elephantiasis, vasectomy
In black and white shades
Polarized water
He went over and lied
Onto dirty mattress
The ward round is over,
Said the ill man with a cigarette
And brown eye-whites
What is your ailment?
Asked he curious
I am dead, answered Moritomo
Graveyard is place for the dead,
Prudently said the patient.
Moritomo studies him
Smoke, tarred fingers
Tongue glimmering behind rotten teeth.
Intelligence service was quick
Teresa resolutely walks the porch
Followed by surgeons
Kill the dead man! Orders she
Surgeons draw swords
Blessed nun spills iodine
Patient lights opium
Moritomo coughs
Swords open bicepses
Bladder punctuates
Elbow breaks
I knew you weren't a saint!
Moans Moritomo
His last breath.
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