Who wanted to be a horseman
Who wanted to be what his father had been before him
Who had no father, who had no mother
Who could not ride
Who sprang fully-formed from nowhere
Who knew the floor of a stable
better than he knew the world or knew himself
Who could not tell who had fed him or sustained him
Who lacked speech
Who could not put into words
where he had come from or what was to be his end
Who could not describe the world
Who could not define it
On whom the sins of the fathers were visited
Who was innocent, who was fallen
Who now was to eat bread in the sweat of his face
Who was sub-normal, moronic, mentally disabled,
an inspired visionary, a wolf-boy, a child of God
Who had quickened in his mother’s womb
to be flung wailing into the world
Who had fallen from nowhere
and found himself nowhere
Who could not say who had killed him
or why he had had to die